


Color Me with Kisses, Color Me in Love

by MiddiMidori, WinterRaven



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: (Not) Another Stucky Big Bang 2020, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bucky is working on his MFA, Bucky poses for Steve, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Frottage, I almost forgot to mention there is a slight age difference, M/M, NASBB2020, Nomad Steve Rogers, Photographer Bucky Barnes, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes, Rebecca is a good older sister, Rimming, Slice of Life, Steve is a reclusive artist, Steve is older by about eight years, Steve poses for Bucky, art college student Bucky, artist's muse, do not copy to another site, domestic life, family diner, hammocks are fun, puppy dog eyes and banter, this is horny and soft hours folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 104,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26956381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiddiMidori/pseuds/MiddiMidori, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterRaven/pseuds/WinterRaven
Summary: Brooklyn-born Steve Rogers is a famous yet reclusive artist who made his name on the New York art scene. But he walked away from that five years ago and has been living in Indiana ever since.It’s a quiet life until he meets Bucky Barnes, the son of the woman who owns and runs his favorite diner, Barnes & Cobbler, a family-run restaurant in Shelbyville. Bucky is going into his final year of his Fine Arts Masters degree in photography at the Art Institute of Chicago.They’re smitten with each other right from the start.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Comments: 125
Kudos: 194
Collections: Not Another Stucky Big Bang 2020





	1. Smitten and slightly tongue-tied

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! On behalf of [MiddiMidori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiddiMidori) and myself, here is our contribution to the 2020 (Not) Another Stucky Big Bang.
> 
> I'd like to thank some folks right off the bat. First, I'd like to thank Middi for choosing this fic to create art for. She's a fantastic artist, fabulous cheerleader and a lovely friend. I could not have asked for a better person to share in this project. You can find her on Twitter and on Instagram under the same name. Big love.
> 
> The next person I'd like to thank is my beta [Star-Princess31](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Princess31) for taking on the task of editing and making sure my regional vernacular was correct. Reading a 105k story is no easy feat. Huge hugs and love to her for all that she has done for this fic.
> 
> And I'd like to thank the NASBB mods for putting on this huge event. Their hard work and 'bullying' tactics do not go unnoticed. Thanks so much for everything you've done. You guys are rock stars! Much love to each of you.
> 
> This fic is different from what I usually write in that it's soft and is a slice of life. I'm more of a conflict kind of person so, yeah, it was an interesting journey writing it. And I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out. If you like long fics that are soft, then this one is for you. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> **POSTING SCHEDULE:** There are 15 chapters so for the month of October, I will be posting Monday, Wednesday and Friday. In November, I will be posting Monday and Friday with the final chapter to be posted on November 20.

  
  


Pulling up in front of the diner, Steve’s stomach growled. The growling was the result of him skipping breakfast so he could drive forty-five minutes to Shelbyville for an appointment and run some errands that he had been putting off for the past month. 

Driving to Brookville would have taken less time but it was a smaller town with fewer retail options. Plus, it didn’t have his favorite diner: Barnes & Cobbler.

The bell hanging over the door chimed as he walked into the diner. He wandered over to his favorite booth located in the corner where the large windows looked out onto the street. It was just after one o’clock in the afternoon, and the lunch crowd was quickly thinning out. Steve enjoyed this time of day at the diner; it was more subdued, allowing him to chat with either Becca Barnes, the diner’s manager or her mother, Winnifred, the owner and head cook of the family-run operation.

One of the reasons Steve loved going to the diner was its color scheme, which was rooted in Earth tones. The first time he set foot into the diner five years ago, it welcomed and comforted him. It felt timeless to him. Aside from some minor changes in aesthetics, nothing much had changed since then. 

The wainscoting in the dining area consisted of black walnut-stained wood that accompanied the cream-colored walls. The color carried through to the wooden tables and chairs. The chairs would have been uncomfortable if it wasn’t for the forest green padded vinyl seats that matched the booths. With booths taking up one side of the diner, and tables and chairs taking up the center, that left just enough space for the twelve-foot long cream and green-speckled lunch countertop with its six bolt down stools in the same forest green as the chairs. The floors tied the look together with cream and black tiles throughout the dining area.

The cream-colored walls were adorned with large, flush-mounted, and artfully composed photographs of vegetables, spices, plates, and cutlery. The vegetables and spices were ingredients the diner incorporated into their dishes. The plates and cutlery in one of the photographs were the actual plates and cutlery the diner used. 

The prints were new; they had only made their appearance two months ago, replacing bright and colorful watercolor posters of American diners from across the country. While Steve liked the posters, he much preferred the current artwork. It was better suited to the diner and Winnie’s personality. He had neglected to ask who was the photographer when he first saw them. He kept forgetting, but this time, he planned to remember and ask before heading before leaving.

But the real reason he loved the diner was the food. 

Anything Winnie made had Steve’s seal of approval. He could honestly brag that he had eaten every dish she had put on the chalkboard menu and his stomach had appreciated them all. But he did have a few favorite soups and dishes; off the top of his head, the borscht, chili, and chicken ‘n’ dumplings were his favorite meals in a bowl. His favorite dishes were the pulled pork tacos, chicken pot pie, and beef stroganoff.

He loved her baked goods, too. Pies, cobblers, and cinnamon buns were always staples at the diner. Once in a while, she would bake chocolate chip cookies and sell them by the half-dozen or dozen. If they were available on the day he dropped by for lunch, Steve always took home a dozen. 

Steve slid into his booth and quickly scanned the chalkboard located above the lunch countertop to see the daily specials. Peach cobbler jumped out at him. At least he knew what he was going to have for dessert. The chicken ‘n’ dumpling soup caught his eye. Then he spotted the pulled pork tacos on the menu. His stomach growled again. 

Becca walked up to his booth with a warm smile and a cup of coffee in hand.

“Good to see you, Steve,” she greeted. “I assume you don’t need to see the menu since you’ve memorized it. Are you ready to order?”

“Yep, I’m ready,” he replied, smiling.

“Great. Just let me get someone over here to take your order.”

Walking back towards the kitchen with her chestnut-colored ponytail bouncing side-to-side, Becca pushed open the stainless steel swing door. 

“Bucky, can you take an order please?” she called out. “First booth.”

“Yeah, sure,” came the reply. “Just give me one second.” 

The voice sounded a little harried. Fifteen seconds later, a young man walked out of the kitchen with a pen between his teeth, tying a short green apron around his waist. He wore a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, faded grey jeans and sneakers. Steve watched the lean and toned man stride over to his table. Pulling out a guest check pad, the man stopped at Steve’stable and smiled at him.

“Hi, I’m Bucky. What can I get you?”

Steve stared at Bucky and drew a blank. His brain was busy processing how attractive the blue-gray eyed man was. The chiselled jawline and dimpled chin had Steve feeling a little warm under his navy henley. The chestnut brown curls that sat on top of Bucky’s head and framed his face couldn’t have made him look more angelic. His throat went inconveniently dry.

Bucky looked at him with concern. “Hey, are you feeling alright? Do I need to get Becca out here?” 

His voice was smooth like 25-year-old scotch. He blinked at Bucky and averted his gaze towards the chalkboard menu. 

“I’m fine,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry for not answering right away. I just realized I need to do something after lunch.” 

Steve wanted to kick himself for being so distracted and sounding so awkward.

Bucky smiled kindly. “As long as you’re feeling fine, it’s all that matters. Would you like me to give you a rundown on today’s specials?”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary,” Steve replied, trying to collect himself. “I know what I want… I’ll start with a bowl of chicken n’ dumpling soup, then the beef stroganoff and finish with the peach cobbler.”

“You like the peach cobbler?” Bucky asked. “It’s my favorite. Her strawberry shortcake is pretty awesome, too when she gets around to making it. Real whipped cream with a hint of vanilla. You can’t beat that.”

“Yeah, I love the peach cobbler,” Steve replied. “It’s my favorite out of everything Winnie bakes. Could I also get a glass of water?”

“Absolutely.” Bucky noticed Steve’s coffee. “Did you want any cream with your coffee?”

“No, it’s good. I drink it black.”

“Fair enough. I’ll be right back with your water.” 

Steve watched Bucky walk back to the kitchen, unabashedly staring at his ass. He cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee. He hadn’t looked at anyone that way in a long time. The last time would have been when he was still living in Brooklyn. 

Sure, his libido was foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. But there was something else poking at him. Something kinder, warmer and much less frenetic was gently tugging at him. He pondered over that feeling for a moment.

A minute later, Bucky returned with the glass of water, cutlery and placed it on the table.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Steve queried.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, shoot.”

“Whenever I come into town, I always drop by here for a meal before I head back home. I’ve been doing that for the past five years and to be honest, I’ve never seen you here before. Are you new?”

Bucky smiled. “I’m not exactly new. This is the first summer I’ll be working here since I started college. I’ve been working on my masters in fine arts over at the Art Institute of Chicago. I’m also minoring in architecture.”

“Wow, that’s great. That’s quite the pairing. What year are you going into?”

“Final year. I’ve been working on my thesis. Architecture is a back up plan in case art doesn’t pan out, but I’m thinking I can combine the two and make a real go of it as a career in art.”

“What’s your area of concentration for your degree?”

Before Bucky could answer, the service bell rang. 

“Chicken n’ dumpling soup for table one,” Winnie called out.

Bucky bit his lower lip. “You’ll have to excuse me. That’s your soup. I’ll be right back.”

Steve watched him walk away with his eyes clearly focused on his ass. Unexpectedly Bucky turned around to look at him. Steve’s eyes widened with surprise at being caught staring blatantly at his ass. Suddenly and uncomfortably warm, he was sure his complexion had turned bright red. A questioning look crossed Bucky’s face before he smirked at Steve and continued towards the kitchen.

Returning with the bowl of soup and placing it in front of Steve, Bucky answered his question.

“My area of concentration is photography,” he said. “I’m working with black and white film instead of going digital, to be more specific.”

This piqued Steve’s interest. “I’m impressed. Is there a reason for shooting black and white film?”

“My dad loved photography when he was growing up. He had a passion for it. He took pictures of anything and everything. When he met my mom, she became his favorite subject. He took tons of pictures of mom, me, and my sister. We have boxes of old photographs of the three of us. He gave me a toy camera when I was three and I followed him around, photographing everything he was photographing. One of his photographer friends took a picture of me and my dad, standing side-by-side, with our cameras in front of our faces. It’s a really cute photograph… and really sweet. He gave me a love of photography. Sometimes I wish he was still here so he could see what I’m doing.”

Steve caught the look of love, fondness and nostalgia on Bucky’s face as he recalled the memories of his father. “He passed away?”

“Yeah. He had a heart attack the year before I went to Chicago. That was a wild year trying to keep my shit together.”

Steve understood what Bucky had gone through considering his mother died during his first year at Columbia. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. I should let you go eat your soup before it gets cold. Your stroganoff should be ready in a couple of minutes.”

“Okay,’ Steve replied. “I have one more question. You said you’re not exactly new here. What did you mean by that?”

Bucky looked down at his feet for a second before looking Steve in the eyes. “Winnie is my mom and Becca is my big sister.”

Steve was surprised. “Your mother always referred to you as James.” He paused for a second. “I mean she didn’t talk about you a lot; she spoke about you only in passing. The conversation never veered onto the subject of you.”

“Yeah, well, James is my first name. Bucky is short for Buchanan which is my middle name,” he smiled. “My dad gave me the nickname. Mom made a point of calling me James so I wouldn’t forget what it was. She refers to me by both names now.”

Steve watched how animated Bucky’s face was when he spoke. He also appreciated that he also spoke with his hands. The movements weren’t overly exaggerated and distracting. It was just enough to add emphasis to whatever he was saying. Speaking with his hands also gave Steve a chance to see how strong but graceful they looked. He wanted to sketch them, if he could. 

“In high school, I would come help out in the kitchen, prepping vegetables with Mom, after school” he continued. “I never waited on tables until this summer. Usually, I stay in Chicago over the summer, but I wanted to take a break from the city and come back here after my last exam two weeks ago. I’m heading back at the end of August.”

Steve absorbed the information. Putting down his spoon, he reached out with his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky. I’m Steve.”

Bucky smiled, taking his hand and shaking it. “Hi, Steve. It’s good to meet you, too. I should let you eat your soup. I’ll be back a little later with the rest of your meal.”

For the rest of Steve’s visit, he surreptitiously watched Bucky clear and clean tables, and do a quick sweep of the dining area floor. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Bucky. 

When Bucky brought out the peach cobbler, there was a dollop of whipped cream beside the scoop of vanilla ice cream sitting on top of the cobbler.

“Uhm, not that I’m complaining, but doesn’t the cobbler usually have the ice cream only?” Steve asked.

Bucky quickly turned bashful. “Yeah, well, I put that on there because the container was sitting beside the ice cream. And I thought I’d put a little extra on it because you’ve been fun to talk to. I usually don’t talk to the customers much because I’m always doing something else around here.”

Steve smiled as his chest grew warmer. “I like talking to you, too. It was nice getting to know someone.”

“But you have conversations with Becca and my mom, right?” 

“I do, but they’re all just casual. I didn’t learn about your dad until today. And I still have no idea what college or university Becca went to. Our conversations never went that direction. It was always about the weather or something.”

Bucky nodded, thinking about what Steve had just said. “I’m glad our conversation was different.”

“It was. Thank you for that. By the way, I was wondering if you had decided on what your thesis will be.”

Before Bucky could answer, the kitchen door swung open and Winnie walked out, wiping her hands on a towel. “Bucky, could you come to the back? There’s a delivery and the driver would like a little help unloading our order.” 

“No problem, Mom,” he replied. He smiled regretfully at Steve. “Sorry, gotta go. It was nice talking to you. Maybe we could continue this again?”

“I would love to, Bucky. Go back to work,” Steve said. “Wouldn’t want you to get into trouble.”

Bucky offered him a winsome smile before heading back to the kitchen. As he walked past his mother, Winnie caught sight of Steve. She strolled over to him.

“Steve! Good to see you. How have you been?” 

“Been good, Winnie. I was in town for a doctor’s appointment; it’s nothing serious. Just the annual checkup and blood work. Then I have to finish picking up supplies, and get some groceries before I drive back home. How’s life? I see Bucky is back. I was a little confused at first when he said he was your boy. You always referred to him as James but he cleared that up for me.”

“Oh, this was your first time meeting him?”

“Yes, it was. And I have to admit I was a little surprised. I knew you had a son. But he always seemed like a ghost to me because I had never seen him around here.”

Winnie laughed. “Oh, he is no ghost, as you can see for yourself. Sometimes I wondered what George was thinking, calling him Bucky. He said he didn’t care for ‘Jimmy’ as a nickname. He said it didn’t suit the boy. He thought ‘Bucky’ was a better fit. I can’t say I disagree with him. But I like his given name and James needs to remember that it’s still on his birth certificate and driver’s license.”

“He’s a handsome boy. He and Becca have your eyes.”

“Well, you’re a sweet talker today. You should drop by more often. I might be introducing a few new menu items over the next couple of months.”

Steve blushed. “You know I don’t come to town all that often. 

“I’m gonna start tempting you with new dishes so I can see your smiling face around here more often.” 

“Oh, I see how it is.”

Winnie smiled brightly making him realize Bucky had the same smile.

“You’re one of my favorite customers,” she said. “Just so you know, I plan on bringing back the German bee sting cake and the strawberry shortcake once the strawberries are in season. I plan on making brownies with mint icing.”

“I’m not gonna lie, Winnie,” Steve admitted. “Even though I have a plate of peach cobbler sitting in front of me, I’m drooling at all the sweets you’re gonna make. What about the savory dishes? Care to give me a hint at what I might find if I come by more often?”

“Well, I’m gonna try a Creole jambalaya recipe I’ve been wanting to make for awhile. I went to New Orleans last year to visit a friend who owns a restaurant out there and every item on her menu was absolutely mouth-watering. She was generous enough to tell me how she makes her jambalaya. I’ve been experimenting with the recipe at home and I think I finally have it down.”

“Sounds great. Is the Creole version the one with tomatoes?”

“Yes. The Cajun version doesn’t include tomatoes and uses different spices, but it is just as delicious.”

“You’re making a compelling argument for me to drop by more often. What else are you planning to add to the menu?”

“Chicken parmigiana and an eggplant version of it,” Winnie answered. “They’ll both appear on the menu at the same time as an option for those who don’t eat meat. And the muffuletta sandwich. I have a recipe to make the bread so that’s going to be part of the menu this summer.”

“Wow, I definitely will visit more often. Could you give me an idea when are you going to start rolling out some of these dishes?” Steve couldn’t help but want a taste of the new additions to the menu.

“Come by in a couple of days but I’m not going to tell you what I plan to debut on the menu. You’ll have to find out for yourself.” Winnie glanced down at Steve’s cobbler and noticed the whipped cream.

“Did Bucky throw in some whipped cream for you?” she asked with a curious tone.

Steve had just spooned some cobbler and ice cream into his mouth when Winnie asked the question. With wide eyes, he looked at her as he quickly chewed his food to answer her.

“Yes, he did. It was really nice of him to do that,” he replied, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “He wasn’t supposed to do that?” he asked innocently.

She scrutinized him for a moment, then laughed and shook her head. “No, but since it’s you, that’s alright. Becca must have told him you’re one of our best regulars.”

“Nothing wrong with a little perk, now and then,” Steve said with a little wink.

“Good lord, you are feeling fresh, Steve,” Winnie guffawed. “No wonder Bucky added the whipped cream for you. Anyway, I gotta go back into the kitchen and make sure everything I ordered was in that delivery. Will I see you sooner rather than later?”

Steve nodded in the affirmative as he placed a large spoonful of peaches and whipped cream into his mouth.

“Enjoy the peaches,” she said, walking back to the kitchen. 

Steve felt his shoulders relax for the first time since she gave him that discerning look. The fact she seemed to hint, intentionally or unintentionally, that she knew how her son was affecting him, didn’t help in his efforts to maintain a casual demeanor during their conversation. Fortunately, she showed some mercy after noticing him squirm.

As he finished his last bite of peach cobbler, Steve’s phone vibrated in his front pant pocket. Checking it, he realized it was a message from Sam with his weekly text to see how he was doing and wondering if Steve was ready for another visit from him and Nat this summer. He had added that Nat was looking forward to seeing his Indiana hideaway again. 

Steve chuckled at the word ‘hideaway.’ It made him sound so reclusive. He wasn’t being reclusive. He was just living quietly, blending in with the people who were far removed from New York City. Five years ago, he told Sam and Nat that he merely wanted a break from the New York art scene. He was also aware that Sam knew there was more to it than just wanting a break but knew better than to pursue the subject if Steve didn’t want to talk about it. So, Sam opted to keep the lines of communication open with Steve through weekly text messages, the occasional phone call, and the annual visits.

Steve texted back telling him everything was fine and he wanted to know what Sam and Nat’s schedules were like for the summer before he could pick the best time for them to visit. Looking up from his phone, he scanned the diner to see if Bucky was clearing a table. He wanted another chance to glance at him before paying for his meal and going on with the rest of his day. But Bucky was nowhere in the dining area. Feeling slightly disappointed, Steve left a tip on the table for him, and walked over to the cash register where Becca was sorting through receipts. 

“How was your meal?” she asked, handing him the check for lunch.

“Delicious as usual,” Steve replied, pulling out a twenty dollar bill. “I can’t find home cooking anywhere else that comes close to what your mother does.”

“Not even back in New York?”

“She would give some of those guys a run for their money,” he replied confidently.

“That’s awfully nice of you to say,” she said, handing Steve back his change. “So what does the rest of the day look like for you now that your belly is full?” 

“I have to head over to the supermarket and get some groceries,” he replied scratching his beard. “I’m running low on the essentials like eggs and coffee. And I left a tip for Bucky. I’ll see ya around.”

• • • • •

Bucky walked out of the kitchen just in time to see Steve exit the diner, climb into his sports utility vehicle and drive away. He frowned at missing the chance to say goodbye to the man. 

“Bucky, Steve left you a tip,” Becca stated as she went back to sorting out the cash register receipts.

He walked over to the booth Steve occupied. He blinked at the twenty-dollar tip Steve left him. Pocketing the bill and picking up the dirty plates and cutlery, he walked up to his sister.

“He left me a twenty-dollar tip,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Really?”

Bucky pulled the bill out of his apron pocket and placed it on the counter. “Really.”

Becca shrugged her shoulders. “He tips well but that’s the biggest tip he’s left for anyone. I’m impressed. What did you do to earn the tip?”

“What do you mean what did I do? I took his order.”

Becca arched an eyebrow at him. 

Bucky arched an eyebrow back at her. “We chatted, Becs,” he said in a warning tone.

“He’s pretty hot, Bucky.”

“I’m well aware of that. Thank you for pointing out the obvious,” Bucky said, feeling petulant as he put the bill back into his apron pocket.

“He’s also a really nice guy,” she added. “You would do well with him.”

“I could tell from the conversation we had that he’s a nice guy.” He was reluctant to ask his next question but he tossed it out regardless. “Is he into guys?”

“I don’t know. I never asked. It’s really none of my business,” she replied. “But judging by the size of that tip he gave you, I’d say he might be into you.”

Bucky couldn’t hide the blush on his cheeks as he gave her a stone-faced glare. “Could you not use a double-entendre, please?”

Becca laughed. “That’s your interpretation, not mine.”

• • • • •

The steady beat of his feet hitting the gravel road kept Steve company as he jogged up the driveway leading to his house. He thought running five miles before dinner would clear all thoughts of Bucky from his mind. 

It did; but it was only temporary.

Flushed and dripping in sweat, he sat on the top step of the veranda after completing his run. Breathing deeply, he took a moment to lie on his back and bring his heart rate down. But his libido raged at the first opportunity to remind him about Bucky. 

Vivid thoughts of kissing Bucky’s plump lips had Steve sighing in defeat over his lost efforts to push the young man into the back of his mind. Thoughts of Bucky’s lips around his cock surged to the forefront. His cock twitched and pushed against the material of his running shorts. Steve roughly palmed himself, trying to calm it down and alleviate some of the pressure that was building. His imagination flitted quickly to visions of Bucky moaning around his cock as he fucked his mouth. 

His hand brushed over a wet spot on his shorts.

That was enough for Steve to sit up, walk straight to the bathroom, take his clothes off as fast he could and step into the shower. With the hot water flowing down his body, he stroked his cock as he imagined his tongue running over Bucky’s tight hole, licking him open. He fantasized about how Bucky would sound as Steve fingered him open, preparing him to have his ass fucked. He thought about finding and rubbing the spot that would make Bucky howl and his vision white out. 

Steve groaned as he tightened his grip, envisioning his cock entering Bucky’s hot and hungry hole. He wanted to fuck him slow and deep, then escalate to hard and punishing. He wanted to hear Bucky scream his name. An image of him bouncing on his cock sent Steve over the edge. He shuddered and came, shooting his cum against the shower wall.

A couple of minutes later, Steve aimed the showerhead at the wall to rinse away the evidence of his desire for Bucky. 

• • • • •

Two days later, Bucky stood at the cash register, handing out change to a customer when the bell chimed indicating another customer had arrived. He glanced towards the entrance to see Steve surveying the booths to see if one was free. Bucky couldn’t help but smile to himself. His heart beat a little faster at the sight of the man.

The lunch crowd was slowly dwindling and his favorite booth had opened up minutes ago. Steve headed over to claim it even though it hadn’t been cleared of the previous diner’s presence.

Bucky grabbed the dark grey dish tub sitting behind him and walked over to Steve who spotted him.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve smiled.

“You’re back,” Bucky grinned. “And did you just call me Buck?”

“Yeah, do you mind?”

“No, I don’t. It’s just that nobody has ever given my nickname a nickname. But I like it.”

“That’s good, but if you decide you don’t want me to call you Buck, I’ll stop.”

“No, it’s perfectly fine. I like how it sounds when you say it.” Placing the tub on the table, Bucky began clearing the dirty dishes. “Just let me get these out of the way and we can get started. Coffee, black, right?”

“Correct. Your mom told me that she’s going to be introducing some new dishes over the next couple of months.”

“She most certainly is,” Bucky confirmed, wiping down the table with a damp cloth. “Today is the first day and they’re up on the chalkboard if you want to take a look. I’ll be right back with your coffee.”

After dropping off the tub next to the dishwasher in the kitchen, Bucky poured a cup of coffee and a glass of water and walked back to Steve. 

“Have you decided on anything?” Bucky asked, placing the cup down in front of Steve.

“I have. I’ll start with the Boston clam chowder, then the Creole jambalaya, and for dessert I’d like a slice of the lemon torte.”

“The lemon will definitely cleanse your palate,” Bucky noted as he wrote down Steve’s order.

“I wanted something a little bright on my tongue after all the seafood and spices,” Steve commented.

Bucky wished Steve hadn’t mentioned his tongue because his imagination instantly conjured up an image of Steve licking and kissing his throat before he marked him with a bruise. Silently, he took a deep breath. “If there isn’t anything else you’d like, I’ll put in your order now.”

“Nope, I’m good,” Steve smiled. “Thanks.”

• • • • •

Between serving Steve his chowder and then his jambalaya, Bucky kept himself busy tending to other customers, cleaning tables, and putting dirty dishes into the dishwasher. When it came time to give Steve a slice of lemon torte, there were four tables still occupied by patrons, including Steve.

“Here’s your torte,” Bucky announced, placing it and a clean fork on the table. He picked up the empty dishes and dirty cutlery. “How was your meal?”

“Really great,” Steve replied. “Your mother is a fantastic cook. If she’d let me, I would eat a whole pot of that jambalaya in one sitting.”

Bucky laughed. “Don’t tempt her. She would probably make a batch of it, and set it in front of you just to watch you eat it.”

Steve pretended to consider the idea as he used the fork to cut himself a piece of the torte. “Only if I get to do a twenty-four hour fast before I chow down on it,” he said with a smile. 

He savored the cake and groaned with pleasure. It was a sound that traveled down Bucky’s spine and left him unprepared.

“Uhm, would you like me to top up your coffee?” he asked, itching to step away from Steve for a moment.

“Oh, yes, please,” came the reply.

Putting the dishes into the tub behind the cash register, Bucky returned with the coffee pot in hand to pour more of the hot liquid into Steve’s almost empty cup.

“Thanks,” said Steve. “Do you have a couple of minutes to chat? Only if you’re not too busy.”

Bucky surveyed the diner, taking note of the people sitting at two different tables. The people at one table were getting ready to leave, the folks at the other were still deep in conversation as they worked their way through their burgers and onion rings. Becca was at the cash register ringing up a couple of take-out orders.

“Let me clear a couple of tables and I should be good for a bit,” Bucky replied. Steve smiled at his response.

• • • • •

A few minutes later, Bucky sat across from Steve with a tumbler of iced tea, excited to finally have a conversation with him. He casually took in Steve’s appearance. Today, he wore a blue and black plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, jeans, and hiking boots. The dark blonde hair and beard were a sharp contrast to his deep sky blue eyes. He noticed a tattoo on the inside of his right forearm. It looked like a pair of wings. It had a military feel to them. He wondered if Steve had been in the military, and if not, why he had the tattoo and what it meant to him.

“There was a question I asked you the last time I was here but you never got around to answering it because we were interrupted and by then I had to leave,” Steve remarked. “I’d like to ask it again.”

“Sure, I’m all yours,” said Bucky. “What was the question? I can’t seem to recall it right now.”

“I was wondering if you had decided on your thesis topic.”

“Yes, I did. It will explore the question of whether photography is art or entertainment.”

“That’s an interesting question,” said Steve. “I like your topic a lot. What’s your personal opinion? Is photography art or is it entertainment?”

“I think it’s both. It’s a conundrum similar to the age-old question of what came first, the chicken or the egg.”

“Some people might see that as sitting on the fence,” Steve countered.

“It’s not sitting on the fence. It’s about being able to see both perspectives. Once you can see both perspectives objectively, then you can decide which side of the fence you want to comfortably occupy.”

“But wouldn’t being able to see both perspectives make it harder to choose a side?”

“Not necessarily. If one has already made up their mind, being able to see the different perspectives won’t guarantee that they’ll move away from their original opinion.”

“True. I can’t argue against that,” Steve conceded, waving his fork in the air. 

“What do you think photography is?” Bucky asked. “Art or entertainment?” He watched Steve take another bite of his torte before he answered. 

“Photography is art.”

Bucky smiled at conviction and confidence in the answer. “You’re pretty clear about what side of the fence you’re standing on.”

“I am, and I think you should stop sitting on the fence and join me.” 

Steve was trying to persuade him by challenging him. Bucky had no plans on relenting. He took a drink of his iced tea.

“I kinda like the view from the fence,” Bucky re-asserted. “I’m not going anywhere. Sorry.”

They continued chatting until Steve glanced at his watch, noting how much time had passed.

“Shit! I’ve taken up too much of your time, Buck. I should settle the check and let you go back to work.”

Bucky reluctantly agreed. “Okay, I’ll meet you at the register and I’ll ring up your bill.” 

After paying for his meal, Steve pushed a twenty dollar bill in Bucky’s direction. He looked at the money, then looked at Steve.

“This is the second time you’ve given me a twenty-dollar tip. This is incredibly generous of you, Steve,” he said. “Honestly, you don’t have to give me that much. I’m fine with a fifteen percent tip.” He pushed the bill back to Steve.

Steve pushed it towards Bucky again. “Please take it. I insist. It’s the least I can do for monopolizing your time. Tell Becca I’m sorry for taking you away from your work.”

“It’s fine,” Bucky insisted. “If it was a problem, she would have interrupted us to tell me there was something she or Mom needed me to do. She didn’t, so it’s okay.” He slid the money into his apron pocket where the rest of his tips sat.

Steve smiled. “Okay, but if you get any grief about it, I will talk to them and apologize.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Steve. I’ll see you later.”

Steve gave him a small wave as he walked out.

• • • • •

As Bucky stacked the clean dishes from the dishwasher, Becca walked up and stood beside him, grinning. Bucky turned his head to look at her and returned to stacking the dishes.

“What’s that grin for?” he asked.

“Did you enjoy your chat with Steve?”

“Yes, did I spend too much time talking to him?”

“No. It was quiet. I didn’t mind and mom had everything under control back here. It was a good time for you to have your lunch break. What did you two talk about?”

“Was there something specific you wanted to know?”

“Did he ask you out on a date?”

“No. We didn’t talk about going on a date. We talked about my thesis topic.”

“Oooh, I bet he had a lot to say about that. He knows a thing or two about art.”

Bucky gave her a side-eye glance. “What are you talking about?”

“Steve’s an artist.”

His eyes narrowed. “He’s an artist?”

“Yes, he draws and paints. He’s originally from New York. Don’t you know who he is?” Becca was beginning to sound mildly frustrated at her baby brother.”

“He’s Steve. I haven’t gotten around to asking what he does for a living”

“You don’t know his last name?”

Bucky hadn’t really thought about it. It slipped his mind because he was far too distracted by the idea of having Steve bone him good and hard. “I never asked and when he introduced himself, he never mentioned his last name. What is it?”

“He’s Steve Rogers,” Becca replied, arching her eyebrow at him.

A second later, Bucky’s eyes widened. “Are you shittin’ me?” 

She squeezed his shoulder. “No, my bratty goblin, I am not shittin’ you.”

“I love his art. The way he interprets the human body is a revelation.” 

“How could you not know that was Steve Rogers?”

“I never saw a photograph of him,” Bucky replied defensively. “I only ever saw his work in the photo art books one of my instructors had in her office at the college. Plus, I wasn’t looking through the books for hot-as-fuck artists to bang.”

“Ah-ha! You do want to bang him,” she said gleefully.

Bucky sighed, wanting the floor to open up and swallow him just to get away from his sister. “Kill me now,” he muttered under his breath.


	2. The next step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve starts drawing again. He invites Bucky over to his place. Becca learns about the invitation and teases him as all big sisters tend to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks for the comments and your enthusiasm over the first chapter. They are so appreciated. Here is the next chapter and enjoy!
> 
> Next chapter will be posted this Friday :)
> 
> * Also, the end notes are acting up, so ignore whatever is at the end. I tried removing it but there seems to be a glitch *shrugs*

Ambient morning light filled the large studio as Steve labored away on his first drawing since he moved to Indiana.

Steve had spent the first year in Indiana rebuilding his house because the original structure was falling apart. The previous owner had vacated the premises two years earlier for a new job in another state and had difficulty finding a buyer. 

But he wasn’t really concerned about the house. Steve knew it had to be torn down. He bought the five-acre property for half of its value because a good chunk of it wasn’t considered farming land and he was more than happy to let the trees, tall grass, and wildflowers grow with abandon. 

The elevation was also higher than the surrounding area. He didn’t have much experience with floods but after witnessing how some of his neighbors dealt with flash flooding, it gave him a healthy respect for Mother Nature. 

The house he built didn’t look like a home for the affluent. It was a modest ranch-style home with a spacious veranda, just large enough to have Sam and Nat stay with him during their annual visit. He didn’t keep any of his paintings or drawings here with him though. They were back in New York, stored in a climate-controlled storage unit that Sam only had access to in case of any issues at the facility or in case one of his works was purchased and needed to be prepped for shipping. 

The only indulgence Steve allowed himself with building the house was to add the studio with its large North-facing windows. While he had no interest in picking up a pencil or brush at the time, he made the decision to include the studio. He knew he would eventually return to his art so he had to factor in a space that would put him in the mindset to create and express himself. 

With charcoal in hand, this was the first time he was in the studio to draw instead of using it as a reading room or to take an afternoon nap. 

He had spent fifteen minutes looking out the window, drawing whatever caught his attention as a warm-up exercise. 

For the last ten minutes, his hand danced over the paper, leaving behind curved lines of various lengths, sweeping across the surface. A smile crept over his face as he continued working on the drawing. The image he was putting to paper was one etched in his memory. And even though his memory was photographic, he still wasn’t sure how accurately he remembered the details.

His cell phone rang and vibrated on the small table next to the drawing easel. Steve checked the caller ID to see it was Sam calling from his personal phone. Stopping what he was doing, he picked up the phone.

“Hi, Sam.”

“Hey, Stevie. Did I call at a bad time?”

“Nope, I’ve been up for a while.”

“Good. I just wanted to tell you how surprised I was when Luanne emailed me to say you left a message at the office asking me to call you.”

“I did, and I have to say that Luanne is the best executive assistant you ever hired. You called ten minutes after I left the message with her.”

“You can thank Nat,” said Sam. “She was the one who found her. You know between me and her, she’s the brains in the marriage.”

Steve laughed. “I would never dispute that.”

“Because she’d kick your sorry ass,” Sam supplied. He paused for a second. “I know you have the number for this phone. I know that you could have called me directly instead of leaving a message at the office. You used to do that all the time when you were still here in New York. So, I’m thinking the reason you called the office is because this is your way of saying you have news that might get me to act as your art agent again, although being your best friend is a good gig that I wouldn’t trade for the world. I’m not even going to guess why you called because I want you to tell me.”

Steve smiled at the way Sam could see right through him. 

“I’ve started drawing again,” he announced. “And I’m probably going to put brush to canvas, too.”

“That’s great news, man.” Steve could practically hear Sam smile. “And I’m saying that as a friend and not because I’m going to get a twenty percent cut on whatever pieces you sell. Nat is going to be so thrilled for you. Is this the first time you’ve drawn since you left?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Any particular reason why you’re at it now?”

“It was time, and I was inspired. I think I’m also at a point in my life where I think it’s worth revisiting and rediscovering what made me happy when I started doing this.” Steve paused. “I’m sorry I’ve been a terrible client for the last five years. I’ve given you twenty percent of nothing.”

“Don’t look at it that way, man,” Sam urged. “You know our friendship isn’t built on money. It never was.”

“I know. Lately, I feel like I haven’t been pulling my weight.”

“That better not be one of the reasons you’re painting again. You know art is created from the heart, not the so-called ‘Almighty Dollar’.”

“It’s not. Don’t worry. It’s coming from the right place.”

“Good, that’s what I was hoping you would say.”

Steve heard Nat in the background calling out to Sam, unaware that he was on the phone. 

“I’ll be there in a second, babe,” Sam said, replying to his wife. “I’m on the phone with Steve.”

Steve heard Nat’s voice getting louder.

“Oh, here she comes,” Sam whispered with a mischievous tone in his voice. “She wants to talk to you.”

Steve heard shuffling and muffled sounds before he heard Nat’s voice.

“Rogers, I hear you’re alive and kicking. Sam just told me you’re drawing again.” Steve could hear how happy she was to learn about the latest development in his life.

“So, how’s the weather out there?” she asked. “It must be fine, otherwise Sam would have mentioned the word ‘flooding’ at least once in the last couple of months.”

“It wasn’t bad,” Steve replied. “There was some flooding but it was in another part of the county. It wasn’t anywhere near me or the neighbors.”

“Glad to hear it. So, when can we head out there and hang out with you for a few days? Is July still good?”

“July still works. I don’t have anything going on that month.”

“Maybe we can see some of your work by then?” 

Aside from Sam, Nat was one of his biggest cheerleaders. She was always interested and eager to see his latest projects. And the admiration was mutual. Steve loved her photographic images. Her commercial work was always top notch, but it was the non-commercial, artistic images that always captured his imagination. The ethereal quality of her subjects in those images was something that had him spellbound. 

“Only if I get to see what you’ve been up to as well?”

“Of course, it’s only fair,” she agreed. “Now that you’re creating again, anything else going on in your life that we should know about? Have you met anyone?”

As well as being a cheerleader, Nat also wanted him to find someone he could settle down with. From the moment they met at Columbia University, she always had a habit of trying to set him up with someone. It didn’t stop after he introduced her to Sam, and it certainly didn’t stop after he cut short his academic studies with one year left in his Fine Arts Master's degree.

“I’m fine, Nat.”

“What kind of answer is that?” 

Steve knew he was being evasive and non-committal. “It’s the kind of answer that says it’s none of your business,” he replied. “I’m doing fine. I’m not seeing anyone.”

Steve wasn’t ready to talk about Bucky because there was nothing to talk about. They talked at the diner. That was as far as it went. He didn’t want to rush things even though his gut told him Bucky wouldn’t mind if Steve got a little bolder with him. 

And even if he wanted to, the best he could tell her was that he met someone he couldn’t stop thinking about until he jerked off every night. No, he wasn’t interested in a pep talk from her or getting a playful ‘tsk, tsk’ followed by a very forward suggestion about how to get Bucky into his bed. He knew how to sweet talk someone into his bed for a good fuck without much trouble. But he didn’t want it to be that way with Bucky. He wanted to do things differently this time.

Nat hummed. Steve knew the wheels were spinning in her mind. Things always got uncomfortable for him whenever she hummed.

“For some reason, I don’t believe you, Rogers. But I’ll let it go for now.” Steve imagined her smiling into the phone. “I should let you go. Sam wants to talk to you again. Take care, Stevie. We’ll chat later.”

A few seconds later, Sam was back. 

“I assume since you’re starting to draw and paint, you’ll want to put something together for a show in the future?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind putting on an exhibition of the new work,” Steve replied. “In New York. There’s nowhere else I would mark my return.” 

New York was home. More specifically, Brooklyn was his home, and it always would be. It only made sense that he would make a return to the art scene with an exhibit there.

“Are you ready to be back in the spotlight?” Sam asked. “There are going to be a lot of curious folks and buyers wondering what you’ve been up to and very keen to see your new work.”

“I’ll be ready for the spotlight,” Steve answered calmly. “I’m going to take a year or so to create enough pieces for a show. And I know there will be a lot of curiosity considering nobody has heard a peep from me except for you and Nat.”

“You burned yourself out, didn’t you?” Sam observed.

“Among other things, yeah,” he admitted. “I’m gonna approach this differently.”

“What kind of an approach would that be?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I know what I was doing before wasn’t good for me in the long run. I need to strip it down and remember again.”

“You do what you need to do, Steve. You know Nat and I are behind you. You’ll be fine. I’ll put some feelers out at a few galleries to see how interested they would be in hosting and presenting your newest work.”

“Sure, that would be great.”

“I don’t even know why I’m asking you this because I know what your answer will be, but I’m gonna ask anyway... Manhattan or Brooklyn?”

Steve smiled. “I want the show in a Brooklyn gallery.”

“Done. I’ll throw the bone out there and see who wants it.”

Steve appreciated how steadfast Sam was. He was forever grateful for having him and Nat in his life. “Thanks. So, how are you and Nat doing?”

“We’re doing great. We’re actually thinking about having a child.”

That put the biggest grin on Steve’s face. “You two are going to be great parents. The kid is gonna be so lucky to have you.

“Well, the kid is gonna be even luckier with you as its godfather.”

Touched by the honor, Steve’s vision blurred for a second, making him rub his eyes. “Are you sure that’s a wise decision?”

“Aside from getting married and having a kid, it’s one of the best decisions Nat and I will ever make,” Sam replied confidently.

“So you’re going to make me responsible for another life?”

“Only if Nat and I somehow don’t get to see the little one grow up. If it makes you feel less panicked about the responsibility, we have no intention of leaving until we’re good and ready and that won’t be for a long time.”

Warmth bloomed across Steve’s chest. “I know,” he said. “I’d be honored to be the child’s godfather.”

“Excellent. Nat will be happy to hear this,” Sam said. “I have to go, so you take care of yourself and we’ll talk again.”

“You bet, Sam. Take care.”

After the call ended, Steve looked at his drawing again. “Not bad, Rogers,” he said to himself. Picking up the charcoal, sitting beside his mobile phone, he continued working on the drawing.

• • • • •

After a busy lunch hour, Bucky finally had more than a minute to rest and drink a glass of iced tea. Sitting on a stool by the cash register, the diner’s phone rang. 

“Barnes & Cobbler. How may I help you?” Bucky answered.

“Hi, I’d like to place an order for takeout,” said the male voice. It sounded vaguely familiar to him.

“Absolutely. Would you like to know what our specials of the day are?”

“Sure, that would be great.”

“You have your choice of chicken or eggplant parmigiana. It comes with a house salad and garlic toast. Soup of the day is minestrone. We’ve reintroduced a dessert we had last summer, and that would be the German bee sting cake.”

“Well, I will definitely take a slice of that cake to go, along with the chicken parmigiana and the minestrone soup.” There was a pause. “Am I speaking with Bucky?”

“Yes, you are,” he replied. Then it hit him. “Is this Steve?”

“The one and only.”

“Have you ever ordered take-out from here before?”

“No, this is the first time. I have a lot of shit to do in town and not enough wiggle room in my schedule to sit and take my time with a meal. So, I’m ordering dinner. I’ll reheat it when I get home.”

“Fair enough. When you were planning on picking up? It can be ready in twenty minutes.”

“I was thinking of picking up near closing time, if that’s alright. Is 3:30 okay?”

“That’s more than fine. We can get that ready for you then.”

“Great. I’ll see you in a bit, Buck.”

• • • • •

“Why are you looking at your watch every five minutes?”

“What are you talking about?”

The sound of a straw broom sweeping over the checkerboard floor could be heard under the low chattering sound of a talk-radio station floating out from the diner’s thirty-year-old FM radio.

“Bucky, you’ve been glancing at your watch every five minutes and it’s starting to look like you have some sort of nervous tick,” Becca clarified as she began going through the day’s receipts. “We have over half an hour left before we close and you can go home. You got a hot date or something?”

“No.”

“So, what’s up, little brother?”

Before Bucky could say anything, Winnie walked out of the kitchen with a bag filled with food containers and handed it over to him.

“This is Steve’s order when he arrives,” she said. “Tell him I put an extra dessert with his order. It’s on the house.”

“Uhm, if he asks why, what do I tell him?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she smiled, giving him a knowing look before she walked back to the kitchen. 

“So, that’s why you’ve been twitchy,” Becca crowed.

“Would you stop calling me twitchy, Becs.” Bucky leaned the broom against a chair and placed the bag on one of the tables. He opened the bag to check that everything Steve ordered was present.

“Would you prefer I say you’re acting horny.” 

“Don’t call me horny either,” he groused, despite the fact she was correct in her assessment. He spotted the second cardboard dessert box and closed the bag.

“When are you gonna say something to him? You know, invite him out to a movie or dinner. Then go on the second date where you let him bone you,” she teased.

“Becca, I swear to god— ”

The door chimed open. Bucky and Becca turned to see Steve walking in, wearing a grey t-shirt with a stone-washed denim jacket, and jeans that revealed his lean and muscular legs. Bucky licked his lips. Lifting his sunglasses to prop them on top of his head, Steve waved at Becca and smiled at Bucky.

“Hey, guys.” His gaze fell on the bag. “Is that my order?” 

“It is,” Bucky replied. “Came out of the kitchen a minute ago.”

“Bucky, could you ring that up for Steve? I’m gonna go into the office to finish this,” Becca asked, gesturing to the fistful of receipts in her hand as she walked away from the cash register.

“Yeah, sure. I can do that,” he replied, taking the bag over to the counter.

Steve opened the bag and inhaled deeply. “Mmmm, it smells really good.”

“It is. Good thing you called when you did. All the parmigiana sold a half hour after you called.”

“The chicken and the eggplant?”

“Yep, the eggplant, too. Mom cuts it nice and thick. It’s pretty meaty. The resident carnivores loved it as much as the chicken.”

“Can’t wait to dig into this when I get home.” Steve noticed the second dessert box. Pulling both boxes out, he opened both. The first box held the German bee sting cake he asked for. The second box held three pecan tarts. “Oh, wow. They look great. She’s bringing back pecan tarts?”

Bucky peeked into the box. “Actually, they’re chocolate pecan tarts. She’s putting them on the menu tomorrow.”

“Has your mom anointed me as her official taste guinea pig for her baking? Because I would happily taste test all of it.”

Bucky laughed. “No, I don’t think so, but you would have to ask her to confirm.”

“So then, why did she give me this? I mean, this wasn’t in here by accident, was it?”

“No, she said it’s a little extra something for you. Why she did it, I have no idea. I think she might have a soft spot for you.”

Steve smiled. “Well, that’s awfully kind of her. Would you like one? I’ll eat one with you.”

Bucky was certain the look on Steve’s face was going to be the death of him. They weren’t quite puppy dog eyes but it was close enough. And they were asking him to join in a bite of food together.

“Sure,” Bucky replied. “This is the first time she’s added chocolate to the recipe so I’m curious how they turned out.”

He watched Steve take one of the tarts out and handed it over to him. Bucky took the tart but not before their fingers touched. He wasn’t sure who touched who, but it made his skin tingle with excitement. As he bit in the tart, Bucky watched Steve do the same. He watched the way his lips moved. He was grateful he was standing behind the counter.

“This is really good, Buck,” Steve remarked. Bucky nodded in agreement. “My compliments to the baker.”

Bucky rang up the bill. “The total is $18.47.”

Steve handed over a twenty dollar bill. “Keep the change. Thanks for having a tart with me.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just sorry you couldn’t drop by to have your meal here but takeout is the next best thing to having mom’s cooking.”

“Perhaps, but I would be missing out on the company,” Steve said with a sincere smile.

Bucky felt his cheeks grow warm. He looked away for a second before looking at Steve again. “That’s kind of you to say.” He paused. “May I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, sure. Ask away.”

“When we introduced ourselves, I don’t think I ever caught your last name.”

Steve thought for a moment. “Oh, I forgot to tell you my last name. I’ve gotten into the habit of just telling people my first name.”

“It’s not because you’re on the F.B.I.’s most wanted list, is it?” Bucky teased.

Steve laughed. “I can assure you that’s not the reason. I’m a private person. Let me re-introduce myself.” He extended his hand. “My name is Steve Rogers. I’ve enjoyed our conversations and I hope we can continue having those conversations, Buck.”

Bucky shook his hand again. “Hi. Are you Steve Rogers, the Brooklyn-born artist? You were a rising star, as they say, before you walked away five years ago.”

Steve bit his lower lip and nodded. “Yes, that would be me.”

“I’m a huge fan of your work.”

Steve smiled softly. “Thank you.”

“Your work is amazing. The way you capture the human body just speaks to me. I feel like I should have recognized you when we first met. But honestly, I don’t recall ever seeing a photograph of you when I was learning about your drawings and painting at art school.”

Steve chuckled. “Don’t feel bad. I was never one for having my picture taken. I was only interested in having people to see my art, not my face. To be honest, I’m glad you didn’t know who I was. It gave us a chance to get to know each other.” He paused. “I really like you and I’d like to get to know you better if that’s alright with you.”

Bucky was elated to hear Steve express his interest in him. “It’s more than alright,” he replied. “I would love to get to know you better, too. And I’m glad that I had no clue who you were aside from being this really handsome guy who liked to eat. Because I really have no idea if we would have had the conversations we had if I knew who you were.”

“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” said Steve.

“Have you drawn or painted since you’ve been living here?” Bucky asked.

“Up until the last couple of weeks, I hadn’t picked up a brush or a piece of charcoal. But, I’m back at it again.”

“That’s great. You found your inspiration again.”

Steve looked fondly at him. “Yeah, I found my muse.” 

“I’m really happy for you and I’m looking forward to seeing your new work one day.”

“Would you like to see a work-in-progress?” Steve asked. “You’re more than welcome to see what I’ve been doing.”

“Yeah, I’d love to,” Bucky replied. “But are you sure you want me to see it? I know some artists don’t like to reveal anything until it’s finished.”

“For me, it depends on who the person is. If it’s a friend, someone I trust I would give them a sneak peek if I’m feeling good about the progress of the piece. 

“So, I guess I’m a friend?” Bucky asked with a shy smile. He had to ask the question; it was just sitting there waiting for him to grab it.

“Yeah, I would say so,” Steve said, returning the smile. “You’re also someone I think I can trust, too.”

“Yeah, you can trust me,” Bucky assured.

Steve looked at him fondly. “Good. Would tomorrow work? Or are you working?”

“I, uh… tomorrow would work. It’s my day off.”

“Great. Do you have a piece of paper and a pen handy?”

Bucky quickly fished out the requested items and handed them over to Steve. He watched him jot something down. Steve handed the paper and pen back. It was his address, directions and his phone number.

“Come by anytime after one o’clock tomorrow,” said Steve. “I’ll be home all day. I threw in the directions in case Google maps is useless. I have no idea if they ever mapped the area. It will take you about forty-five minutes to get there. I don’t have any of my finished pieces with me. They’re in storage in New York. But I have tons of sketchbooks you could look through. We’ll have a beer and you can ask me anything.”

“About your work?”

“Yeah, that too.”

Bucky blinked at the answer. He felt his heart beat a little faster than it normally did when Steve was around. He watched Steve take the bag and tuck it under his arm. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Steve replied, giving him a small wave.

As soon as Steve exited the diner, Becca walked out of the office and sidled up to Bucky. He stared at her. The smirk on her face told him she wanted details of his conversation with Steve. 

“What do you want to know?” he sighed.

“Did you ask him out?”

“No.” He walked around her to grab the broom and continue sweeping the floor. 

“Did he ask you out?”

Bucky slowly moved further away from her as he swept the floor.

“Bucky. You’re not answering me. Did he ask you out?”

“In a way.”

“Either he did or he didn’t. It’s like asking if you’re pregnant or not. There’s no in-between.”

“He invited me over to his place,” Bucky clarified. Becca gave him the biggest grin he had ever seen from her. “I told him I knew who he was. He laughed because he forgot to tell me his last name. He has been on hiatus from creating art, but now he’s back at it. He offered to show me what he’s been working on. I have his address and I’m heading over there tomorrow.”

Becca couldn’t stop smiling. “Yes!” she shouted. “My little goblin brother has a hot date.”

Bucky quickly looked around to make sure no one else was in the diner to witness his sister’s enthusiasm over his love life. 

“Becs, I wouldn’t call it a hot date. He’s just inviting me over as a friend to look at his work.” 

Bucky knew he was lying to himself as much as he was lying to his sister. He was still processing Steve’s invitation and life seemed a little surreal at the moment.

“My gut is telling me he’s not inviting you over just as a friend,” Becca insisted. “The way he looks at you is— ”

“Is what?

“Beyond casual friendship. I think he’s just as smitten with you as you are with him.”

“Okay, how do you even know this? Have you been spying on him or something?”

“It’s easy to spy on you two when you talk to each other like there’s nobody else in the diner. I could blow up a stick of dynamite in here and you guys wouldn’t flinch.”

Bucky thought for a moment. He couldn’t really disagree with his sister’s observations. At the same time, he was mildly mortified that he and Steve were so transparent that Becca picked up on what was going on between them. He wondered if Steve really was as enamoured with him as Bucky was. The piece of paper bearing Steve’s address and phone number might seem to support Becca’s assertions.

“Are we that obvious?”

Becca laughed. “Oh, little goblin, you and Steve could poke me in the eye with all that pent up horniness; it’s that obvious.”

Bucky cringed. “Thanks for putting that image into my head.”

Becca gently punched his shoulder. “Yeah, well, I can’t believe that came out of my mouth either. Anyway, I’m glad whatever is going on between you two is moving forward. What time are you heading over to his place tomorrow?”

“He said anytime in the afternoon. He’s going to be home all day.”

“Is this an afternoon date or should I expect to see you the following morning?” she asked.

“I think I’ll be home before curfew,” he answered drily.

“Very funny, wise ass,” she said. “But seriously, I have my fingers crossed that this will go well for the both of you. And make sure you have a few condoms with you before you head over there.”

“Becca…” Bucky sighed, shaking his head.


	3. Getting to know you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky learn more about each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone who left comments. Your interest and enthusiasm for the story is so appreciated.
> 
> The next chapter will go up on Monday :)

Following the directions Steve had written down, Bucky could see clusters of trees scattered over the rolling hills where Steve’s home was sequestered. 

When Bucky had woken up, he found a note that Becca had slipped under the door reminding him to take a box of condoms with him before driving over to Steve’s. He cursed her presumptions but still appreciated that she wanted him to be careful.

He was thankful that his mother and Becca were at the diner by the time he woke up. He had plans to bake something for Steve because he didn’t want to head over to Steve’s empty-handed. He was being invited into a home, the least he could do was bring food or drink for the host. As he padded down the hall towards the kitchen, he had decided on peach cobbler, remembering that Steve said it was one of his favorite dishes. But also, he had made it a couple of times under his mother’s watchful eye and several times while he was in Chicago. He wasn’t sure if it would taste as good as his mom’s cobbler but he thought it was still pretty tasty.

Turning off the highway, he drove for another mile until he spotted a wooden sign bearing the numbers of Steve’s address. Turning onto the private gravel road, it was another half-mile before he arrived at the trees and shrubs that acted as natural barriers against bad weather and provided shade against a hot summer sun.

Bucky slowed down once he got closer to the house and parked next to Steve’s sports utility vehicle. Grabbing the foil-wrapped cobbler sitting in the passenger seat, Bucky inhaled deeply before he stepped out of his car. 

Walking up the five steps onto the veranda, he knocked on the door.

• • • • •

Steve hated that he hadn’t gotten much sleep. He had spent the evening looking through his old sketchbooks, deciding which ones he wanted Bucky to see. What he thought would take him half an hour ended up taking two hours as he traveled down memory lane. Each sketchbook was a snapshot of what was going on in his mind at particular points in his life. Most were pleasant while there were a few that yielded uncomfortable or difficult memories. But the art he created during those times was cathartic and it had made him a better artist and person.

Even after he had selected the sketchbooks and set them down on the wooden table in the studio, Steve was still distracted by thoughts of seeing Bucky outside of the backdrop of the diner and having him look at a couple of the pieces he was currently working on. He was excited to have a fresh pair of eyes look over them.

He spent most of the night wide awake in bed, trying to shut off his brain and coax it into sleep. He tried jerking off in the hopes of relaxing enough to fall into slumber. No such luck. It made it worse, if that was possible.

Out of desperation and because he didn’t want to look like shit when Bucky arrived, he took a very hot shower and drank warm milk. He finally nodded off as the night sky started to lighten in the predawn hour.

After waking up close to noon, Steve was back in the studio with a mug of coffee and sourdough toast slathered with peanut butter and strawberry jam. Scrutinizing the drawing, he added a few more details to the face and gradually added more shadow to highlight the subject’s nose and chin. He narrowed his eyes at it until the knock on the door pulled him out of his ruminations. 

Looking at his watch, it indicated it was just after two o’clock. Knowing it was Bucky, Steve’s feet moved as quickly as his racing heart.

• • • • •

Steve opened the door in bare feet, wearing an old white t-shirt stained with paint and charcoal, and jeans with tears above the knees and one sitting high on his right thigh. 

The main fuse in Bucky’s brain shorted from looking at the man. 

“Hey, Buck,” Steve beamed. “Come on in. You can leave your shoes on the mat.” He noticed the foil-covered dish in his hands. “Is that your mother’s baking?”

Bucky looked down at the dish. “No, actually I baked it. I, uh, made it this morning.” He handed it over. “It’s peach cobbler. It’s mom’s recipe in one of her dishes, so I might need the dish back before I leave today.”

A small look of surprise danced across Steve’s face and his cheeks colored with a brush of pink. “Wow, you didn’t have to go to the trouble. I wasn’t expecting you to bring anything except yourself. But yes, I can find a container for the cobbler so the dish can go back to your mom.”

“It wasn’t any trouble making it. I’ve made it enough times that I could probably put it together with one hand tied behind my back.” Bucky tried to calm his racing heart. 

Steve lifted the foil and inhaled the fragrant aroma of warm peaches. “My mouth is watering and I just ate.” He pulled the foil back down. “Let’s just put this in the kitchen. Follow me.”

• • • • •

As Bucky trailed Steve to the kitchen, he looked at the open space of the home. The vaulted ceiling was a nice surprise. The grey-beige walls were the perfect neutral backdrop for the exposed dark-stained wood beams and wood floors. He glanced briefly at the drawings and photographs hanging on the walls, knowing that he would need a closer look before going back home.

Steve placed the cobbler on the kitchen island. “Would you like some coffee? I woke up late so the coffee hasn’t gone stale. I can warm it up in the microwave, but I also have iced tea.”

Steve’s voice was warm and inviting, quickly putting Bucky at ease.

“Is the iced tea homemade or the stuff from cans?”

“Are you an iced tea aficionado?”

“I’ll drink any iced tea but I like it when it’s homemade.” 

“Is the iced tea homemade at the diner?”

“No, that comes out of a canister. I make the good stuff at home.”

“Well, I have store-bought iced tea only. You’ll have to show me how to make the good stuff.”

“I can do that,” Bucky smiled. “And I’ll take the iced tea. Uhm, I have to say this is a really nice home. I like that it’s not white or sterile looking. The shade of blue for the kitchen is on point. I like how it contrasts against the cherry-stained cabinets.”

Steve chuckled as he grabbed the iced tea from the fridge. “Now you sound like an interior designer. I hope you won’t hold it against me that the walls in the studio are white. But it’s the same wood flooring throughout the home.”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, I guess that’s what happens when a couple of your courses cover color theory and elements of design.”

“I can give you a tour of the place if you like or you can just wander around.” Steve handed over the glass of iced tea to him.

“I’d like to wander around,” Bucky replied.

“Make yourself at home,” Steve encouraged. “I have to sort something out in the studio, I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.”

Taking a sip of his iced tea, Bucky walked over to the fireplace which was flanked on either side by bookshelves that reached the ceiling. The shelves held a cornucopia of books and knick-knacks. Art books occupied the bottom shelves. Books on Greek, Norse, Egyptian, and Eastern European mythologies and folklore occupied another shelf. 

Above it, a mini bluetooth speaker with a dock for a cell phone lay claim to some space along with several family photos. There was one of a small boy sitting on his father’s shoulders. Another was of a young woman sitting in a hospital bed, looking adoringly at a newborn swaddled in a blanket. Bucky’s eyes drifted next to the photograph of a boy who couldn’t have been older than twelve smiling and laughing with his mother. Bucky stared at the photo. The boy had to be Steve but he looked so different from the Steve who occupied his dreams and had him jerking off almost every night since they met.

He barely registered Steve walking up behind him. Feeling Steve brush up against him, Bucky looked up from the photo. 

“I look pretty different in that picture,” Steve noted. “I was kinda small. I didn’t shoot up like a weed until I turned sixteen.”

“Yeah, the only way I knew it had to be you was your eyes,” Bucky admitted. “The woman is your mother, right?”

“Yes, that’s Ma. Her name was Sarah Rogers. She was a nurse.”

“Was?”

“She died a while ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I would have liked to have met her.”

Steve smiled softly. “She would have loved meeting you and your family. I’m ninety-nine percent certain she and your mother would have become very good friends.”

Bucky smiled. “Yeah, I could see that.” He looked at the photograph again. Tucked behind her left ear, Sarah’s blonde hair fell around her shoulders as she hugged her son. “She was beautiful. You have her smile.”

“Thank you. Ma used to tell me I got my laugh, my jawline, and my eyes from Pa.”

“So, your father isn’t around?”

“No, he was a pilot with the U.S. Air Force.”

Bucky suddenly remembered something. “The tattoo on your forearm,” he started. “Those are military wings, right?”

He noticed Steve’s look of pleasant surprise.

“Yeah, they are,” he replied. “It’s a modified and stylized version of his wings. He was killed in a training accident when I was eight years old.”

“Wow, I’m sorry… You’re an only child? No siblings?”

“No siblings. They wanted another child but Ma couldn’t conceive another one. They stopped trying when I turned six. They didn’t want a huge age gap between me and another sibling. I would have liked to have had a sibling.”

“Someone to watch your back and vice versa?”

“Yeah, something like that. Is that something you and your sister do?”

“She’s very much my big sister,” Bucky replied. “She has my back whether I want it or not. She always has good intentions and my best interest at heart. I don’t exactly do the same in return because she’s very capable of handling herself. She likes to fight her own battles. But I’m a good ankle biter.” 

Steve chuckled. “So, the shelves are the only things that caught your attention?”

“No, I’m just taking my time. You can learn a lot about a person by looking at what they have on their bookshelves.”

“Okay, what kind of person do you think I am?”

Bucky swept his gaze over the bookshelves again. He noted cookbooks covering cuisine from Morocco to Thailand to Mexico. There was a good mix of fiction and non-fiction books with graphic novels scattered throughout. There was one shelf dedicated to the darker side of human nature and speculative looks at society. The topics ran the gamut from drug cartels to sociopaths to artificial intelligence.

But there was one shelf solely dedicated to the human body. Some looked like text books for medical students. Art books of Auguste Rodin’s sculptures, Robert Mapplethorpe’s nudes and self-portraits, and Ruth Bernhard’s collection of black and white photographs from her forty years of studying the nude graced the shelf. There were also books featuring the art of flamenco, ballet and modern dance. The rest were by artists skilled in capturing the human figure with graphite, charcoal or paint.

“You’re someone who loves to learn,” Bucky began. “Your interests are varied. You’re interested in people and the human body and its ability to be expressive.”

Seve smiled. “I’m impressed. That’s a very good start. Is there anything else?”

“You seem to be an intelligent person. That’s what I get from looking at this. But it only tells me about a part of you and not all of you. From what conversations we’ve had, I know you’re intelligent and thoughtful.”

Steve looked fondly at him, making Bucky thrum in anticipation. For what, he wasn’t sure.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“I just really like your observations,” Steve replied. “I sound like a great guy.”

“That’s because I haven’t seen your flaws yet.”

Steve chuckled, seemingly amused by the response. “I do indeed have flaws, Buck. I hope you still think I’m a great guy once you’ve seen them.”

Bucky smiled. “Great people have flaws. It means they’re human. I’m not concerned.”

Having had his fill of examining the bookshelves, Bucky surveyed the room, noticing the eclectic works hanging on the walls. The first piece that caught his eye was the largest of all the pieces. It was a large vertical black and white photograph of a fully-clothed man leaning back and laughing in a bathtub full of bubbles, shot from overhead. Bucky estimated the size of the image to be approximately five feet tall and two-and-a-half feet wide. The man’s hands covered his face, leaving only his brilliant and sharp eyes looking back at the photographer. 

Another piece was a painting that reminded Bucky of Jackson Pollock’s work. A third piece was a silkscreen of the Brooklyn bridge leading to Manhattan. 

But his eyes wandered back to the photograph of the man in the bathtub. 

“Do you like this photo?” Steve asked.

“I do,” Bucky replied. “I like it a lot. Something about it looks familiar, though. I think it’s the guy in the shot.”

“That’s me.”

Bucky blinked and squinted his eyes. “That’s you?” He stepped closer to the image to take a look. “You look so different without a beard. You look really young. How long ago was this taken?”

Steve laughed. “I think it was about ten or twelve years ago. I was twenty-two at the time.”

Bucky’s eyes trailed over Steve’s hands and jawline. His eyes were full of mirth. “What’s the reason for sitting in a tub full of bubbles with your clothes on?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “Nat thought it would be fun to do for one of her course assignments.”

“Nat?” he asked. Bucky took a couple of steps back to view the entire image again. He saw the emerging characteristics of a photographic style belonging to someone Bucky admired. “Are you referring to Natasha Romanoff?”

“The one and only. Nat and I met at Columbia. We were in a few first and second-year courses together.”

“She has such a fantastic eye for composition! Her art images are great but she really excels as a visual storyteller with her documentary photography. She’s won awards for her images! I studied her work in second year and always thought it would have been great to bring her in as a guest speaker for the course at the institute.”

“Did you ever bring up the idea with your instructors?”

“I did, but I’m not sure if they ever did anything about it. I don’t think they were ever interested; I think they already had their course programming in place and there wasn’t room to bring her in even if she had the time.”

“If you like, I could introduce you to her one day,” Steve offered. “She and her husband, Sam, come visit me once a year. I don’t think she would mind meeting you. I can bring that up with her before the next visit.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open and his eyes grew large. “Seriously?”

Steve nodded.

“Wow, okay. But only if she’s up for it,” Bucky insisted. “I don’t see the point of disturbing her when she’s here visiting you.”

“I doubt meeting you would be a chore for her. She’s always bugging me about whether or not I’ve made friends here. She’d jump at the chance to meet you.”

Bucky tilted his head, pausing for a second. “Have you made friends since you’ve been here?”

“I’m familiar with enough people to say hi to them and have small conversations.”

“Yeah, but do you hang out with them?”

“No, I enjoy my own company.”

“You don’t strike me as a recluse. Don’t you get lonely?”

“I think you’re confusing being alone with being lonely. I’m not lonely.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I… I didn’t mean to insult you. I guess I’m used to having people around me and I haven’t really felt lonely. That’s been my experience but I know it’s not necessarily yours.”

“You didn’t insult me, Buck. I’m comfortable being alone. I’m sociable when I need to be.”

“Are you just being sociable with me right now?”

“No, I’m not being just sociable with you. I like being around you. Aside from Nat and Sam, the plumber, and the electrician, you’re the only other person who’s seen the inside of this place.”

Bucky took a sip of his iced tea. “I like being around you, too. I’m glad you’re not just being sociable.”

Steve smiled, looking relieved upon hearing Bucky’s response.

“Would you like to see the studio now?” he asked.

“I would love to.”

• • • • •

Eager to see the inner sanctum that cocooned Steve from the rest of the world, Bucky followed Steve past the kitchen, down the end of the short hallway and into the studio. 

Bucky paused just inside the entrance. The studio was bathed in natural light. The white walls didn’t have a starkness to it; instead, there was softness. Bucky thought of the color of light cream. 

On one side of the studio, floating wood shelves carried the tools and supplies Steve needed to create. New and used paint brushes sitting in glass jars, ink pots, ink nibs in baby food jars, and plastic containers holding charcoal, pencils, and pastels littered the shelves.

Beside the shelves, a broom and dustpan leaned against a metal garbage can located next to an old wooden table covered in dried ink and paint splatter. Canvas drop cloths bearing similar ink and paint splatter patterns covered the floor around the table. 

On the opposite side of the studio, neatly stacked cardboard boxes and plastic milk crates surrounded a vintage Regency wingback armchair upholstered in sapphire-colored velvet. 

“This looks like organized chaos,” Bucky remarked. “More organized than chaotic though.”

“I would have to agree,” Steve said. “But that will all change once I start building a body of new work. I’ll start hanging some of the finished pieces on the walls.”

“Are you saying you’re planning to have a show featuring your new work?”

“I’m thinking about it,” Steve replied. “I wanted to show you some of my old sketchbooks going from high school to during my time at Columbia and after that. So, I dug up a few of them for you to see if you’re interested.”

“I would love to see them.” Bucky wanted very much to see how Steve had evolved as an artist.

He placed his iced tea on the table while Steve picked up a small pile of 9-inch by 12-inch sketchbooks sitting on one of the shelves. Taking the sketchbooks, Bucky flipped through the one sitting on top. 

“That one was my first sketchbook,” Steve explained. “I think I was five at the time.”

The drawings were what a typical five-year-old would draw. Block shapes were used to represent the bodies of people. Squares, triangles and ellipticals represented a person’s head. The lines were unsteady but determined. Most of the drawings were done in crayon. It was apparent that blue was Steve’s favorite color to use. It brought a smile to Bucky’s face. 

In the next sketchbook, the images were dramatically different. The first page offered up an image of a colorful betta fish. Drawn in pencil and then traced over with a black marker, Steve had moved on from crayons to colored pencils. The body of the fish was lime green but its fins and tail wore the colors of the rainbow.

Bucky flipped through a couple more pages. They were all of the betta fish from various angles and the colors used were different for each drawing. Soon, Bucky found images of birds. Owls, eagles, ravens, and macaws populated the pages. Some were drawn in pencil while others had the pencil, black marker, and colored pencil combination. They weren’t very detailed but they were detailed enough for Bucky to appreciate how clean the drawings were. 

“How old were you when you started drawing these?” Bucky asked.

“I was eight or nine. I was going through a lot of sketchbooks.”

“These are advanced for an eight-year-old. Were you drawing all the time?”

“I was a sickly kid,” Steve replied. “I caught colds easily. Ma wasn’t sure what was going on and she was a nurse at the time. I didn’t like staying indoors but the sketchbooks kept my imagination going. So, yeah, I was drawing all the time. Luckily, my health got better when I went into my teens.”

“These are really good.”

“Thanks. I was into drawing animals at the time. That was my betta fish and birds book. I have few books for mammals like cats, dogs, horses, goats, otters. There’s one in the pile that has dragons and mythical creatures like mermaids. I might have tried to draw a kraken. It never looked right no matter how many times I tried to draw one.”

Curious, Bucky looked through the pile. “Which sketchbook is that?”

Steve reached over to pull out the one sitting at the bottom of the pile. “Here you go,” he said, handing it over to Bucky.

Opening the sketchbook, the first page was a series of small sketches of dragon heads. It seemed Steve was figuring out how he wanted the dragon to look. There were variations on the basic shape of its head. Flipping to the next page, Steve determined the shape and was trying out eyes and ears. Each subsequent page was a progression from the previous page; a methodical assembling of an ideal dragon.

“I like how you were trying out different things with the dragon before you settled on a set of physical traits,” Bucky remarked.

“It was the only way I could figure out what I wanted. I could imagine it but I had to see if I could draw it.”

“How old were you when you tried your hand at mythical creatures?” 

“I was 15 or 16 by then.” 

“Seeing how much your art has evolved from when you were eight, it’s pretty fucking amazing.”

Steve shrugged his shoulders, trying to come across as modest. “Thanks, Buck. I guess that’s what happens when you put thousands of hours into something.”

Bucky wondered if he would be as good a photographer as Steve was with his drawing and painting. Deep down he knew he had the drive and the talent. All he had to do was put in the work and grow. That’s what college was there to help him with. He was excited about completing his final year. But at the same time, he was terrified of not being good enough to build a career out of it.

“Clearly, I’m not sure I even put in five hundred hours, let alone 10,000 hours that is needed to be considered an expert. I got a long way to go,” he said.

Bucky could feel Steve’s eyes on him.

“I doubt you’ve put in less than 500 hours with your photography, Buck,” Steve remarked. “You must have easily cleared that. I’m betting you’re closing in on three thousand if you look at it like a part-time job you’ve had for the last three years or so.”

Bucky laughed. “Maybe I should start keeping track of my hours.”

“I doubt you need to do that,” Steve smiled.

“Maybe, you’re right. I’m going to be too busy to keep track of any hours once I head back to Chicago.”

Bucky continued to look through the rest of the sketchbooks. Not only was he looking at the drawings, he looked at the smudges, scribblings and pencil shading that surrounded the drawing and lived along the edges of the pages. The fact Steve was sharing a piece of his life and world with him, had Bucky feeling tingly and warm. After looking through the last sketchbook, he looked up to see Steve fondly smiling at him.

“Why are you smiling?” Bucky asked.

“I’m just happy that you’re here and you seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I am. Looking at these sketchbooks is a treat. Thank you for letting me see them.”

“You’re welcome. Would you like to see what I’m working on? I don’t think it will be part of any show. I wanted to see what I could do after my long hiatus.”

“Yes, please. I’d love to see it,” Bucky answered, putting his iced tea on the table.

“Great. I hope you’ll like it.” He walked quickly towards the easel sitting in front of the large windows.

Bucky shook his head, not quite understanding why Steve seemed so suddenly nervous. “Why wouldn’t I like it?” 

• • • • •

Steve took a deep breath as he stopped in front of the easel. The drawing was hidden under a drop cloth. He couldn’t turn back now. All he could do was to keep going. He unveiled the drawing and turned to watch Bucky’s reaction.

He watched Bucky take a second to realize that he was looking at a charcoal drawing of himself at the diner clearing off a table. Dishes and coffee cups were piled in the dish tub sitting on one of the chairs at the table. The background was fuzzy and nondescript but the checkerboard pattern of the floor was clear. It was a moment in time that Steve had captured. He watched Bucky take a step closer to examine it. 

Surprised and curious, Bucky turned to stare at Steve. 

Despite his gut telling him that Bucky was as interested in him as he was in Bucky, Steve couldn’t help feeling incredibly vulnerable and worried that it wasn’t his gut talking to him but his dick making the decisions where Bucky was concerned. 

“Do you like it?” Steve asked sheepishly, his cheeks blooming with warmth. 

Bucky smiled shyly. “I do. It’s an honor to be drawn by someone as talented as you.” He gazed back at the drawing. “Can I ask why you wanted to draw me?” Bucky turned to look at him, waiting for his answer.

Steve reached out to cradle his cheek. Bucky instinctively leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. 

“I drew you because you’re stunning, Bucky,” Steve replied. “I’ve drawn a lot of people. And they were all beautiful and interesting in their own way. But something about you made me want to put your likeness down onto paper.”

Bucky stared into his eyes, a soft smile forming on his lips. Steve gently stroked his cheek.

“Before I left New York, I was suffering from a creative block,” Steve continued. “My personal life had turned into a mess, too. I managed to sort that out, but I didn’t know how to get out of the block. I was getting depressed and I had to get the fuck out of New York.”

Steve took a deep breath, aware that Bucky’s attention was placed solely on him.

“So, I came out here,” said Steve. “After I built this place, I might have become a little reclusive. But I think that was the depression rearing its ugly head. About a month before I met you, the itch to create was making its way back into my head and into my bones. When I saw you, I knew who I was going to draw first. You inspire me. You inspired me to actually take the step to pick up a pencil and draw again. I’m so grateful to you.”

Bucky beamed. Impulsively, he pulled Steve in and kissed him before backing away. Steve blinked, surprised by the kiss. Bucky’s expression quickly changed to uncertainty.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, looking self-conscious. “That was really forward of me— ”

Steve cupped his face and kissed him back. Bucky whined as Steve ran his tongue over his soft, pliant lips. As soon as Bucky parted his lips, Steve pushed the tip of his tongue into his mouth, taking a taste of his own velvety, slick tongue. Wrapping his arms tightly around Bucky, he groaned, feeling Bucky press his groin against him. His hips moved salaciously, making him aware of the growing bulge trying to escape the confines of his jeans. 

For Steve, there was no hiding how thick his cock was becoming. Bucky teased him by pressing their bulges together. Steve gasped, pulling back for a moment to catch his breath. The kissing and the physical contact was intoxicating. He craved the taste of Bucky on his tongue and wanted to feel bare skin under his hands and along the length of his body. 

His eyes lingered over Bucky’s puffed pink lips. Hands reached up to his face; fingers brushed lightly and reverently over his beard.

“I’ve thought a lot about your beard,” Bucky confessed. “I thought about how it would feel between my legs just before you went down on me. I also thought about what it would feel like between my cheeks while you were licking me open.”

Steve’s cock twitched at the words. “Are you asking for beard burn?” he asked thickly.

Bucky swallowed slowly. “Maybe.”

Steve pushed him up against a wall, kissing him harshly. Fingers carded through his hair as his lips trailed down to Bucky’s throat. Using his beard to full-advantage, he rubbed his cheeks against the delicate skin. Bucky gasped, begging for more. Steve loved how responsive Bucky was to his ministrations. A few minutes later his skin was bright pink and starting to look a little raw. Steve licked soothingly and pressed gentle kisses over the skin. A reddening mark began to bloom at the base of Bucky’s throat.

He stepped back to see how debauched Bucky had become. The curls of his hair were disheveled. His t-shirt rode halfway up his chest; the top button of his jeans had somehow come undone with the zipper stuck at halfway, revealing his white cotton underwear. Bucky looked deliriously blissful with his lop-sided smile. 

“Bucky, you’re so goddamn tempting,” Steve breathed, his body aching for the blue-grey-eyed man.

Without warning, Bucky grabbed fistsful of his t-shirt and pushed him against the wall, effectively switching places. Before Steve could take a breath, Bucky’s tongue invaded his mouth, hungry to taste him again. Swallowing each other’s groans, Bucky slid his hands under Steve’s t-shirt. His touch electrified Steve. Growling, he grabbed Bucky’s firm butt cheeks, squeezing them as hard as he could, making the younger man yelp, then laugh.

“What do you want, Buck?” he purred.

Taking Steve’s right hand, Bucky placed it on the length of his clothed cock. Reflexively, Steve gave Bucky a gentle squeeze. He was hard and twitched under his touch. 

“Please,” Bucky whined in his ear. “I need to get off. I don’t care how… so close right now.”

Steve couldn’t say no. He would give Bucky anything he wanted. Steve fumbled to push down Bucky’s jeans and underwear far enough to free his cock. He licked the palm of his hand before wrapping his hand around Bucky and stroking him. The friction of velvet skin against slightly callused hands gave both men a reason to groan.

Steve buried his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck, working to create another bruise next to the one he already marked on his skin. Bucky writhed against him, awkwardly thrusting his hips into his hand. Soon, Bucky stiffened and the movements of his hips stuttered. He cried out into Steve’s mouth as he spilled all over his hand. 

Steve gently kissed him before grabbing two clean rags: one to wipe the cum off his hand and the hem of his t-shirt, and the other for Bucky to use to clean himself up. Leaving the dirty rags on the table, Steve pulled Bucky into a hug and kissed him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“That was intense,” Bucky replied. “Not sure if that was an out-of-body experience but it was pretty close I think.”

“If you thought that was close to an out-of-body experience, I think we’re going to having problems when we actually fuck,” Steve chuckled. 

As selfish as it might sound, watching Bucky climax gave him a sense of pride. Not that he was incompetent in giving his partners an orgasm, he just wanted to make sure the person he was with enjoyed being with him; and sometimes, it overrode his own needs.

“You haven’t come yet,” Bucky murmured into Steve’s shoulder.

“No, I haven’t but it’s alright,” Steve confirmed. He really wasn’t concerned about getting off at the moment.

“No, it’s not alright.” Bucky slowly slid his hands down Steve’s chest. “Let me take care of you.” His hands reached the top button of the jeans before Steve grabbed his wrists and gently pulled them away.

“I said it’s alright,” Steve reiterated. “You can take care of me another time.”

Bucky frowned. “You’re cockblocking yourself. You know that, right?”

Steve chuckled. “Yes, I’m well-aware.”

“So, sex isn’t part of the reason I’m here?” 

“That wasn’t on the agenda, but you did make a compelling argument to have it included.”

“But it’s still off the agenda.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Okay, no beard burn today. Why?”

“I wanna take things slow.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think jerking me off constitutes taking things slow,” Bucky said, arching an eyebrow.

Steve smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “That could be debated.” He paused. “In all my previous relationships, I was reckless. And what I mean by reckless is that I was emotionally careless with them. But they were just as careless with me and it was fine. It was about getting off and no strings attached. There were a couple of relationships that went down in flames because I assumed one thing and they were thinking something else. Honestly, I wasn’t ready or mature enough to put in the work that’s required to have a healthy relationship.

“Stepping outside of that life, I figured out I was in an environment that didn’t allow for a relationship to grow and become something that was bigger than the people involved,” he continued. “I figured out I did want a relationship. And I decided that when I met someone I really liked, I was going to put in the work.”

Steve held Bucky’s face in his hands. “I really like you, Buck. I’ve never felt this way about anybody before. And I don’t want to be careless with you. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

• • • • •

His heart pounded in his ears listening to Steve’s confession and his expressed desire to not fuck up whatever was happening between them was more than Bucky had expected. He smiled, thrilled at the idea of Steve wanting the same thing he wanted.

“I like you, too, Steve,” he said. “I like you a lot. And that’s not my dick talking either. I really enjoy our conversations. It’s cool to speak to someone who seems to be on the same wavelength as me and who isn’t a classmate. I enjoy being around you. I’d like to be around you some more. I’ve tried not to be careless in my relationships and sometimes it hasn’t been enough. So, yeah, I’m not interested in fucking this up either.”

Steve beamed. “I’m really happy to hear that.”

Bucky stepped forward and kissed him. “So, now that we’re going to take it slow, what do you suggest we do now since getting you off is non-negotiable at the moment?”

Steve sighed and shook his head in amusement. “We could have some of that peach cobbler you baked,” he suggested. “I have vanilla ice cream and candied pecan pieces we can use as garnish.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile. “I think you’re ruled by your stomach.”

“Not always. As part of taking things slow, how would you like to go on a date?”

Bucky liked the idea very much. “Sure, where would you take me?”

“I was thinking of bringing you back here.”

“Are you saying you’re going to cook dinner for me? Do you actually cook?”

“Of course, I do. I can’t live off of your mother’s cooking alone. I can cook anything. I’ve learned a few things living out here for the last five years. Do you have a favorite dish?”

Bucky was very intrigued by the idea of Steve cooking dinner for the two of them. “I like lamb. It doesn’t matter how you prepare it, I’ll eat it.”

He watched Steve think for a moment. “How do you feel about Lamb Tagine?”

Bucky smiled. “I love it. There’s a Moroccan restaurant in Chicago that makes a great Lamb Tagine. I treat myself to it after I finish exams or big projects. It’s my way of celebrating.”

“Then that settles it. Lamb Tagine will be on the menu.”

“Cool. When did you want to do this?” 

“Pick a date and time and I will pick you up.”

“How about this Friday? Will it give you enough time to get everything you need to make it?”

“Friday works for me. I already have the ingredients I need to make it,” Steve replied. “I just have to pick up some stuff to make a salad and a couple of side dishes.”

“You’ve made it before?”

“Yeah, I’ve made it a few times. The first time I made it, I forgot the cinnamon stick. It still tasted good but I definitely like it better when I didn’t forget the cinnamon,” he said looking mildly embarrassed.

The thought of Lamb Tagine made Bucky’s mouth water. “Should I bring something?” he offered. “Actually, I can make a dessert here. That way, I don’t have to sit and watch you do all the work.”

To be honest, Bucky always felt a little awkward sitting around watching someone else make dinner. He’d much prefer helping out anyway he could.

Steve liked the idea. “Yeah, that would be great! It would be more fun than trying to entertain you with my wit and one liners,” he said, self-deprecatingly.

“Great. Did you have a dessert in mind or is it dealer’s choice?”

“You know what I’m making so I’ll leave to you to come up with something that will go with the meal.”

“Okay, I think I have something in mind already. I’ll bring the ingredients.”

“Honestly, if you give me the list of ingredients, I can check to see if I have them here and you can bring whatever I don’t have. Sound good?”

“Perfect.” Bucky already couldn’t wait for Friday to arrive.

Steve smiled brightly. “Great! Let’s get cleaned up and have some of that cobbler.”


	4. Dinner and conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky have their dinner date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday, folks! Time for another instalment. Thanks to everyone for the love, support and interest in this fic. Middi and I appreciate it so much :)
> 
> Next chapter goes up this Wednesday :D

“So, what are you going to wear for your big date?”

“Huh?” Bucky had been absentmindedly putting the dirty dishes into the diner’s dishwasher, thinking about Steve picking him up for their date.

Becca ruffled his hair. “I said what are you going to wear for your date with Steve?”

“Something clean?”

Becca laughed. “Okay, that answer will do. What time is Steve dropping by the house?”

“Around 4:30. We’re going to make dinner together. I’m actually going to make the dessert.”

“You’re making dinner together? Oh my God, that is so fucking cute!” She was genuine in her sentiment. Bucky couldn’t find one hint of sarcasm in the way she said it. He was relieved she was taking this seriously. “4:30? I’ll let you go at 3:30 so you have time to change and get cleaned up. What are you making for dessert?”

“Moroccan orange cake.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“It’s pretty easy to make. Steve has most of the ingredients except for the oranges. I’m bringing those.”

“Is that why that bag of navel oranges is sitting on the counter? They’re a good batch. They should be very sweet.”

“Yeah, that’s the bag I’m taking with me, along with mom’s bundt pan.”

“You’re gonna spoil him.”

“Nah, he’s spoiling me by making Lamb Tagine for dinner.”

“Seriously? Did you tell him that’s your favorite dish?”

“No, he suggested it.”

Becca couldn’t stop grinning.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she replied.

“That grin wasn’t nothing,” Bucky said, calling her out. “Spit it.”

“I just think you and Steve would be really great together, and the fact he’s making your favorite dish without any prior knowledge of your likes and dislikes proves it.”

“You make it sound like it’s meant to be.”

“It might be. You know I’m not a fatalist but I do think some people are meant to be together.”

“And that’s how you see me and Steve?”

“Yes, I do. I might also be a hopeless romantic, but as the oldest sibling, I want nothing but the best for you because you’re my only goblin.” She ruffled his hair for emphasis. “Will you be taking anything else with you for this date?”

Bucky squinted at her. “What are you talking about? I’m taking the oranges and the bundt pan. What else is there?”

“I’m talking about taking your toothbrush and at least a half-dozen condoms… In case he didn’t stock up.”

“Why are you so interested in my sex life? I never ask you who you’re banging.”

“You may be my brother but like most guys your age, you’re horny. That’s just the way it is. So, I’m being practical and realistic about what the two of you might be getting up to this evening.”

Bucky appreciated how much Becca looked out for him when they were growing up. She was always empathetic with him. She always seemed to know if he was having problems and needed advice or needed a little help with school work when they were younger. She had always made time for him when mom and dad were too busy at the diner. After a heart attack took their father away, Becca stepped to help out at the diner and watch over Bucky even more. Now, she was managing the place while their mother ran the kitchen while maintaining the role of head cook.

“Okay, as long as you’re not asking for details, I’ll let you keep nagging my ass.”

“I’m not asking for details,” Becca confirmed. “You know I don’t want to know how he sticks it to you,” she said, scrunching her face. “I like the guy. I don’t want to ruin my image of him with that kind of detail.”

Bucky grinned, shook his head, and returned to stacking dirty dishes into the washer.

• • • • •

“What the fuck,” Bucky muttered to himself. “Make a decision, Barnes.” 

He stared at his closet, annoyed about the fact he didn’t know what to wear for the dinner date. He didn’t want to wear something too nice since he was going to be making the orange cake. The words ‘nice clean shirt’ bounced around in this head. He gave up on staring at the two button-down shirts hanging in the closet, and opted for the red henley sitting in the drawer; after all, it was his favorite shirt. And the weather wasn’t hot enough yet for him to consider not wearing it. So, he paired it with the black denim jeans that hugged his ass and legs in all the right places. He knew he didn’t have to give Steve any incentive to get handsy with him, but it didn’t hurt to tease him just a little.

Then Becca’s suggestion of bringing his toothbrush and several condoms popped into his head. He spent a minute mulling over the toothbrush before he decided against it, feeling it would be too presumptuous considering Steve had said he wanted to take things slow. As much as he wanted to spend the night with Steve, he didn’t want to get his hopes up and experience any form of a letdown. 

• • • • •

Steve pulled into the driveway to the Barnes home located near the Northeastern outskirts of Shelbyville. 

The butterflies in his stomach had fluttered non-stop from the moment he woke up. During the drive to Bucky’s home, Steve mentally ran through the list of ingredients he needed to make the Lamb Tagine. It was an exercise in keeping his mind busy. He also knew he had most of the ingredients Bucky needed to make the Moroccan orange cake and Bucky would bring the rest. 

At least he had slept better this time. Still, a decent night’s sleep did nothing to quell the excitement for their date this evening. 

Climbing out of his SUV, he paused to survey the home and its well-maintained, large front lawn. The choice of blue-gray siding with stone and white trim accenting the windows, door, and porch columns appealed to Steve’s aesthetics. Shrubs decorated the front of the porch while a grand and stately-looking sugar maple tree provided shade. 

Taking a closer look at the tree, he noticed one of its limbs had a worn-down spot where it had been rubbed raw of its bark and didn’t bother growing back. Judging by the marking, Steve imagined it was a tire swing that hung from that spot years ago. He imagined Bucky and Becca playing on the tire swing during the hot Summer months. It made him wish he had a tire swing when he was growing up in Brooklyn. 

Walking up the steps, he noticed a couple of chairs and a small table. The space was also decorated with planters and it appeared that Winnie was growing small pots of herbs on a plant stand that resembled a pine tree. He counted roughly nine plant pots growing an assortment of herbs. Steve had never thought about growing herbs on his veranda and considered the possibility of starting his own little herb garden. He only had wild blueberries growing on his property with three Serviceberry bushes, and a raised vegetable garden growing in his backyard.

Pausing in front of the door, Steve took a second to collect himself before knocking on the door.

• • • • •

The knock on the door startled Bucky as he was putting his clothes back in the closet. Looking at his wristwatch, he realized he had lost track of time. He didn’t hear Steve pull into the driveway, but it had to be him at the door.

Heading down the hallway to the front door, he saw the top of Steve’s head through the window above the door. 

Opening the door, they stared at each other for a moment. Bucky’s heart picked up its pace at the sight of Steve standing in front of him. He liked Steve’s casual look; a blue cotton t-shirt that brought out his eyes paired with denim jeans and work boots. Definitely nothing special, Bucky lied to himself.

“Hi,” said Steve.

“Hi, yourself,” Bucky blurted out. “Uh, come in, please. I’m just getting everything together and then we can leave.”

“You don’t have to rush, Buck. We’ve got time,” Steve smiled. “Are your mom and Becca still at the diner?”

“Yeah, they’re prepping the food for tomorrow’s daily specials,” Bucky replied as he headed for the kitchen with Steve following close behind. “They should be home in the next hour. By the way, they know we’re both going out on a date.”

“They do? What was their reaction?”

“You’re not worried, are you?”

“I’m a little older than you.”

“I’m 24 and you’re 32, if my calculations are correct. I don’t see what the problem is. It’s not like you’re twenty years older than me. Even if you were, what difference would that make?”

“Optics.”

“Optics can suck my ass.”

Steve laughed at Bucky’s petulance. “Twenty years is a lot of experience that even I couldn’t surmount if I was dating someone who was that much older than me. They would have had more in common with my parents than me. It’s just my comfort level.”

“You’re not ageist, are you?”

“Nope, I don’t discriminate because of age but I do discriminate against a person who lacks common sense.”

“Fair enough. But are you worried about the eight year difference?”

“No, but I am concerned about what your mother and Becca think. I don’t want to drive a wedge in your relationship with them. I like them a lot.”

“And they like you, too. Mom likes you a lot. Why else would she give you the odd extra dessert for you to take home?”

“It only happened the one time.”

“Doesn’t matter. She slipped you extra sweets and she doesn’t do that for everyone. Besides, who doesn't love a customer who tips the servers with a twenty-dollar bill?”

“The twenty comes out only to those I really like,” Steve pointed out with a smirk.

Bucky’s cheeks warmed, quickly forgetting why he was in the kitchen. “Would you like a quick tour of the house? You walked past the living room and this is obviously the kitchen,” he said gesturing to the space. 

“You can show me the house another time,” Steve replied, peeking out the kitchen window that overlooked the backyard. “But you could show me the backyard.”

“Ah, you see the garden,” Bucky smiled knowingly. “Sure, I can show you. Just follow me.”

From the kitchen, Bucky led Steve to a mudroom that contained a utility sink with a drainboard on one side and coat hooks and shoe trays on the other to the door that opened out to the backyard. 

Bucky watched as Steve wandered around, first examining the blueberry and raspberry bushes. Then he walked over to the two long rows of raised garden beds.

“How does your mother manage to grow this garden and run the diner? I’m in absolute awe of her.”

Bucky smiled at the amount of respect Steve had for his mother. “She installed a drip irrigation system into the garden beds. Once she did that, everything was easier to manage. Then she went ahead and built the second raised bed because she wanted potatoes, sweet potatoes, zucchini and squash.”

Along with the aforementioned vegetables, tomatoes, green beans, peppers, eggplant, basil and dill had made homes in the garden.

“This is a lot of food come the fall. Where does it all go?”

“The house actually has a root cellar,” Bucky explained. “It was built by the original owners back in the 1800’s. It’s under the front porch. We access it from inside. There’s a flight of stairs that looks like it’s going to a basement but it’s the cellar.”

“The house is that old?”

“According to city records, yeah. If I remember correctly, the house was built in the 1870’s. Obviously, there have been updates like the plumbing, heating and electrical but there’s a lot of the original house still there. Everyone who had it before my parents took really good care of it. It was well-loved. Becca and I grew up in this house.”

“I’m very impressed,” said Steve. “I have a raised garden bed but it’s not as nice as this. Whatever I harvest goes into the walk-in pantry over the winter. Now, I’m rethinking what I have. Could I see the root cellar? I never thought to include a root cellar when I built the house and I’m wondering if that was a mistake.”

“Sure, I can show you,” Bucky replied. “It’s never too late to build one. You could have it next to the house. There are different ways to build one. Mom knows a guy who could help you build one. He helped mom with a ventilation issue she had with the cellar a couple of years ago. Hasn’t had any issues since then. He’s built root cellars for a number of people and he built the one on his property about ten years ago, I think.”

• • • • •

Walking back to the house with Bucky, Steve was simply in awe of him. He knew he was falling hard for the man. He couldn’t recall a time where he had met someone as kind, generous, smart and sexy as fuck as Bucky, who happened to have a mother and sister who were also kind, generous, smart and cheeky. Steve couldn’t imagine them not being a presence in his life. The Barnes family were good people and he counted himself fortunate and lucky for having met them.

They walked back into the mudroom. “Keep your shoes on and here’s a hoodie to wear,” Bucky advised. “It’s a little chilly and damp down there. The stairs are right next door. The cellar floor is made of gravel so no socks or bare feet.”

Taking the hoodie, Steve wore it as advised. Bucky’s scent surrounded him. He couldn’t help but inhale a little more deeply.

The door to the cellar was to their immediate right and it was much wider than the rest of the doors in the house. Steve estimated the width to be forty-two inches. Bucky flipped the light switch and opened the door. At the bottom of the stairs was a relatively large landing that led to a large wooden door.

“Is that door original?” Steve asked as they walked down the stairs. 

“It is. It’s amazing that it’s in such good condition. The only thing we replaced was the latch because the original had become rusted. That is a close replica of the original.”

As soon as they got to the door, Steve reached out to touch the old stained door. It had a good sturdy weight. It was solid and its edges were worn, giving it a soft look.

“Can I open it?” he asked.

“Absolutely! There is a light with a pull chain,” Bucky replied. “You’ll see it as soon as you open the door.”

Nodding, Steve unlatched the door and they walked into the eight-foot by ten-foot space. There was enough light from outside the cellar for Steve to see the pull chain. Once the light came on, he could see how well organized the cellar was. Most of the wooden crates sitting on the shelves were empty but there were a couple that still held a few potatoes and beets from last fall’s harvest. Then there were the three shelves full of squash – butternut, kabocha, and pumpkin.

“That’s a lot of squash, Buck. Did all that come from the garden?”

Bucky laughed. “She only grew half the butternut and kabocha. The pumpkins and the rest came from friends and diner regulars who had a few too many in their gardens, so they gave them to her for the diner to use. She’s planning to make a cold soup out of the butternut squash next week. Some of these will be making the trip over to the diner. It’s not that far from here. It’s only a ten minute drive.”

“I bet this cellar looks impressive at the end of October.”

“It does.” Bucky paused. “Are you getting any ideas about how you want your cellar to look?”

“I am. This has given me a lot to think about. Thanks for letting me see this.”

“You’re welcome,” Bucky smiled. “I guess we should be going? We have to start making dinner as soon as we get your place.”

Steve glanced at his watch. “You’re right. Everything you need is in the kitchen?” Steve shut off the light.

“Yeah, the oranges and bundt pan are sitting on the counter,” Buck replied as he closed the cellar door. 

“You know what you haven’t shown me yet?” Steve asked with a smile.

“That’s a loaded question, sir,” Bucky replied. 

Steve’s smile turned into a smirk. “You haven’t shown me your bedroom.” 

“There’s nothing to see,” Bucky said cooly as he started back up the stairs. “It’s messy.”

“I ask because I was wondering if you have a portfolio of some of your work,” Steve said. “I would love to see some of it. You do have a portfolio, right?”

“Of course, I have a portfolio,” he replied. “It’s just nobody outside of the college has seen it yet. You would be the first and I’m not sure how I feel about it.” Bucky sounded a little shy. 

“Do you want me to see it?”

“I do. It would be great if you looked through it.”

“But…”

“Maybe, I’m feeling a little nervous because the situation has now presented itself.”

Steve understood his hesitance. “You don’t need to be modest, Buck. I’m sure your portfolio is fine. You have nothing to worry about. I really would love to see some of your images. It’s just me. Steve. Not Steve Rogers, the artist. Bring the portfolio along and we can take a look while the tagine is in the oven.”

Steve figured he couldn’t lose. He really did want to see Bucky’s images. He wanted to know how much of a diamond in the rough he was.

“Well, okay,” Bucky relented. 

“Atta boy,” Steve grinned.

• • • • •

While Bucky dug around in his closet for his portfolio, Steve looked around his bedroom, gleaning as much information as he could about the man who had clearly captured his attention, and most likely, his heart.

The walls were covered in memories: photographs of Bucky with his father, a certificate of achievement for perfect attendance in grade 4, a trophy from several years ago for taking first place in a photo contest held by the local photo club and medals from local and regional high school basketball tournaments.

They were snapshots of moments that led to where Bucky was going with his life.

A pair of black and white photographs, matted and framed together, caught Steve’s attention. Walking over to the dresser where the images hung above, he took a closer look. The image on the left was of a very young Bucky taking a picture of his father, George, with George’s camera. His father was beaming at him. Steve could see that Bucky got his smile and the dimple on his chin from his father.

The image on the right was an image of George smiling directly at the camera. “Did you take this picture of your father?”

Bucky walked over to Steve with his portfolio in hand to see which photograph he was referring to. “Yeah, I did,” he answered. “It was my first time holding his camera. I had a lot of fun. It was a little heavy in my six-year-old hands but I wasn’t going to give it back to him until I was done.”

“A very vivid memory for you.”

“It was. Looking back, you realize most days bleed together but once in a while, you have moments that are kinda seared into your brain. This was one of those moments. Dad had a 36-exposure roll and I shot the whole roll. That image was one of them. My uncle took the other picture and Dad printed both images.”

“When did you get them framed together?”

“Last year. I was going through one of his boxes of negatives and prints and I found them.”

“Did you find the negatives? Were they in good condition?”

“Yeah, I found them and they were in great condition. Actually, all of his negatives are in great condition. I’m thinking about going through them to see if there is anything worth printing. Most of his prints turned yellow-brown over time but there were some really nice images and I’d like to find them and print them again. I know mom and Becca would love to see them, too.” 

Steve noticed a black 11x14 portfolio and a black nylon zippered jacket for it in Bucky’s hands. “Is that it?” he asked.

“It is. I only have twelve images in the portfolio, though. I’ve photographed tons of stuff but these are what I think best represents what I can do right now.”

Steve cupped his face and kissed him. “It’s not quantity, it’s quality that counts, Buck,” he smiled. “I’m sure you know that already.”

“I do. I just wish I had more to show you. That’s all.”

“You’ll have lots of opportunities to create more and show me. Don’t worry about it.”

• • • • •

“We’re taking the whole bag of oranges?” Steve stared at the five-pound bag sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Yes, we are,” Bucky replied, grabbing a reusable shopping bag to carry the oranges and bundt pan.

“Are we using all of it for the cake?”

“No, we’ll probably use two or three.”

“What are the rest for?”

“I’m going to make an orange sauce to go with the cake. It’s not part of the recipe but it’s great. You can use it on pancakes, ice cream, chocolate cheesecake, or really anything with chocolate in it.”

“Is chocolate your weakness?”

“Yes, but it’s not my only weakness,” Bucky replied with a smirk and a wink.

Although Steve shook his head and grinned, appreciating Bucky’s playful flirtiness, he would have much preferred to kiss the smirk off his lips.

“I forgot to ask you if you had a microplane at your place,” Bucky continued.

Steve’s mind went blank. “A what?”

Bucky pulled an item out of one of the drawers and showed it to Steve. “This is a microplane. In other words, it’s a zester. You don’t have anything like this?”

“No, I haven’t had a reason to get one.” 

“You should consider getting one so I don’t have to take half of my mother’s kitchen gadgets over to your place,” Bucky said, putting the tool into the bag. “I need it for the oranges.”

Steve chuckled. “You should make a list of all the kitchen gadgets I’m apparently in dire need of.”

• • • • •

The kitchen was fragrant with cinnamon, cardamon, cumin, ginger and oranges.

Sipping a bottle of beer, Steve stirred the simmering Lamb Tagine before putting the lid back on the pot. He watched Bucky quickly zest three oranges, tossing it and the vanilla extract into the batter before pouring it into the bundt pan. Placing the beer on the counter, Steve opened the oven door for Bucky and set the timer to buzz after fifty minutes for the cake.

“Now that everything is good to go, we should clean up,” Bucky commented, wiping his hands on a damp dish towel.

“I’ll take care of the dirty dishes,” said Steve. “You can get the orange sauce ready if you want.”

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks,” Bucky replied. 

• • • • •

Bucky took the last bite of Lamb Tagine and couscous, savoring it. Steve heard Bucky groan with pleasure after the first bite. And he groaned again for the last bite. It warmed Steve’s heart to know Bucky enjoyed his cooking. 

“Would you like more wine, Buck?”

“Oh, no thanks. One glass of wine is more than enough for me.”

“Are you saying you’re a cheap drunk?”

“Maybe,” Bucky replied. “I never relied on alcohol to put me in a good mood when I was out with friends. It also keeps me from learning that compromising photos were taken of me while I was heavily inebriated.”

“That’s always a wise move,” Steve smiled.

Bucky laughed. “Yeah, I’m the one with the incriminating photographs, and none of my friends can remember that I took pictures of them doing dumbass shit.”

“I’ll have to remember not to get shit-faced whenever you’re around.”

Bucky simply grinned, making Steve think how nice it would be to see him sitting across the table every evening for dinner. 

“Did you want to reheat the sauce for the cake?” he asked.

“Yeah, it won’t take long for it to bubble.”

“Great. I’ll clear the table and clean up.”

“Okay, by the time the dishes are clean and drying, the sauce will be ready.”

• • • • •

Dishes sat drying on the rack as Steve gave the dining table one final wipe with the dish towel. The Moroccan orange cake sat cooling on the counter as Bucky watched over the orange sauce, waiting for it to cook down a little more to the right consistency before shutting off the heating element. The house was predominantly fragrant with warm oranges. It mingled with the soft cool breeze coming in from the windows he opened when the house got too warm from all the activity in the kitchen. The scent was something Steve hadn’t realized he enjoyed until that moment.

“Did you want some coffee to go with the cake?” Steve asked, rinsing the dish towel. “I have decaf, if you like.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” Bucky replied. “The sauce is almost ready.”

Plugging in the water kettle, Steve grabbed the French press and coffee grinder out of a cupboard and the coffee beans out of the freezer, and began the ritual of making a satisfying brew.

After putting the freshly ground coffee into the press, Steve watched Bucky pour the sauce into a two-cup glass measuring cup. Unaware he was being watched, Bucky quickly dipped his finger into sauce and slid it into his mouth. He hummed approvingly. 

Even though the moment only lasted a couple of seconds, seeing Bucky suck on his finger made Steve’s cock twitch with more than a passing interest. An image of Bucky groaning and sucking his cock rudely made itself known to Steve. Shifting uncomfortably as he lost himself for a moment, Steve allowed his imagination to run rampant at another image of Bucky writhing underneath him, begging Steve to fuck him.

The kettle whistled, abruptly yanking Steve out of his libidinous thoughts. Then he poured the hot water into the French press. The scent of coffee made Steve happy regardless of the time of day. As the coffee steeped, Steve fished out two large mugs and a teaspoon.

“Do you take any cream or sugar with your coffee?” he asked.

“I just take cream, or milk, if that’s all you have,” Bucky replied, searching for a knife in one of the drawers.

Returning with the cream, Steve watched Bucky set the cake on the dining table and pour the sauce over it. The cake soaked in most of the sauce while the rest slowly ran down the sides.

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” Bucky asked, looking at Steve with a smile.

“It certainly does,” he replied, licking his lips at Bucky.

Bucky turned away for a moment before looking back. He bit his lower lip. “Uhm, I was talking about the cake,” he said calmly.

“I know. But I was referring to the baker, too,” Steve said, leaning in to kiss him. Pulling back, he stared into Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky swallowed thickly. “I think we should have some cake and coffee first,” he suggested. “Wouldn’t want the effort I put into making this to go to waste.”

Steve liked how he could get Bucky flustered, but he knew the younger man would do the same to him. As it was, Bucky had him flustered without being aware that he was doing it at all. 

“You’re right, Buck. I actually want a taste. It smells really good. ”

Bucky smiled. “Well, get the coffee and I’ll cut you a slice.”

A slice of cake waited for Steve when he returned with the mugs of coffee. Cutting a piece with his fork, Steve took his first bite. The burst of orange danced on his tongue, making him groan with pleasure. It was the perfect palate cleanser after the Lamb Tagine. 

“Shit, this is really good,” Steve said, his voice muffled with cake. “Fuck, I’m gonna lick the plate clean.”

“Thank you,” Bucky laughed, beaming at the compliment. “If you like, I can get you the recipe but you’ll have to buy your own zester and bundt pan. I can’t give you half of my mom’s kitchen.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“Maybe not, but I wouldn’t take a chance on it.”

“I have an idea: you come over more often, make the cake while you’re here and I’ll make dinner as compensation. That way, I don’t ever have to make it myself.”

Bucky laughed. “That’s not how it works. What part of ‘buy your own zester and bundt pan’ don’t you understand?”

“I like having you here,” Steve confessed. “I’ll come up with any excuse to have you come here more often… If that’s alright with you.”

Bucky’s cheeks pinkened. “It’s more than alright, Steve. I enjoy your company a lot. You don’t have to make any excuses to get me to spend time with you.”

• • • • •

“No need to be nervous, Buck.”

With Bucky sitting beside him on the couch, Steve could feel him bouncing his leg. It wasn’t obvious but it was enough for him to notice.

“I can’t help it. You’re going to see my work,” Bucky breathed out. “I’m just hoping you like what you’ll see.”

“I’m sure your images will be fine,” Steve said, smiling gently. “And please breathe, Buck. I don’t think you should be holding your breath while I look through them. Blue skin isn’t really that appealing.”

Bucky smiled and nodded.

Steve opened the portfolio and began looking through it. He did a cursory look at all the images before starting at the beginning again. 

“You have a good variety of images. Is there something you’d like to focus on? You mentioned studying documentary photography and storytelling; is that the direction you want to go into?”

“It’s one of the styles I’d like to concentrate on most, along with studying the human body. But I don’t mind fashion or food photography or anything that will help pay the bills and fund any projects I might have on the go or to try and get off the ground.”

The food photography images that decorated the diner popped into Steve’s head, prompting him to ask the next question.

“The photographs in the diner: did you do those?”

“Yeah, they are.”

“Okay, I’m really impressed. I love the way you lit them.”

“Thanks. I used a digital camera for the images. I shot them at the school and it took me a couple of days to get the images I wanted.”

“Where did you get the idea to shoot then? Did your mother ask if you were interested in shooting some images for the diner?”

“Believe it or not, the images were supposed to be a Mother’s Day gift for her. I came up with the idea after last year’s Mother’s Day. I just thought she would hang them up in the house. But when I was home for Christmas, Becca found them because I made the mistake of leaving my laptop open and unattended in the dining room. She walked by and saw one of the images on the screen and got Mom to see them.”

“Let me guess,” said Steve. “Your mom loved them and wanted them to be part of the diner’s aesthetic.”

“That’s a very condensed summary, but it’s not entirely wrong.”

“Okay, so what did happen?”

“I walked in on them looking at the image of the vegetables; that would be the photograph hanging on the wall above the booths. I wasn’t mad; I was disappointed that they saw it. I wanted to surprise Mom with the images printed and framed. I was more annoyed with myself for leaving the laptop open.”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say she loved it and thought it would be great for the diner.”

“She did love it; she still loves it. She thought that image was for a project or course assignment. I had to confess the image was her Mother’s Day gift. And that confused her because it was Christmas. Becca laughed at me for thinking so far in advance but thought it was very sweet. Mom cried because she loved the image. I told her there were more and I showed them the rest. 

“Becca was the one who came up with the idea of replacing the posters in the diner with my images,” Bucky continued. “Of course, Mom loved the idea. So, through Becca, the diner paid for the printing and framing; the diner also paid me for creating the images even though I never asked for payment.”

“That was really nice of Becca to cover the cost. Honestly, you should be paid regardless. It’s something you should get comfortable with. What you do has value and should be monetized. We do live in a capitalist society.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Bucky. “It just felt odd getting paid by my own family.”

“Becca understands the value of art and she wanted you to be financially compensated.”

“Yeah, she was looking out for me.”

Steve returned to viewing the images. He was struck by Bucky’s strong eye for composition and his penchant for playing with light and shadow, particularly when it came to his portrait work and the two nudes that were part of his portfolio. He also noticed something else in his images.

“There’s a sense of movement in all of your images, Buck,” Steve observed. “Even when the subject is static, there’s an energy about them. I really like that. Is that something your professors mentioned to you?”

“Yeah, they had mentioned that. They did mention I had a thing for creating high contrast images. I like my work to be a little punchy.”

“They’re definitely punchy, and I love it. I love the light and shadows. It gets the viewer to really look at what’s in front of them. You definitely have a style in the way you see things. It’s a matter of growing artistically and developing your eye, and that style will be more distinct than it is right now. May I ask what film speed you use?”

“It depends on the lighting situation and what or who the subject is. I go anywhere from 100 to 400 ISO. I don’t want to go any grainier than 400.”

“You process the film and print the images yourself, right?”

“Yeah, I do everything,” Bucky enthused. “I just love being in the darkroom — exposing the paper, watching the image appear in the developer, and when it’s right, putting it into the bath stop to halt the process, then into the fix. It’s peaceful; almost meditative. I play music on my phone and I could literally just do that all day.”

“You’re old school. I like that. I spent some time in a darkroom.”

“Oh? When?”

“When I was going to Columbia. It was over the summer after my first year. I wanted to learn photography to just see things a little differently. There was a course at a place just outside of Greenwich Village. It included a darkroom component so that was pretty interesting.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I did. I liked the darkroom a lot. But I can see where not wearing gloves might put some wear and tear on your hands with all those chemicals. The instructor said he used to use his fingers to move the paper from one solution to the next but after ten years he had to wear gloves because his skin had become very sensitive to the chemicals. But I understood what he was talking about because it was easier to handle the paper with my fingers. I could feel the paper better instead of using the darkroom tongs.”

“I’m the same way,” Bucky agreed. “I guess we’re tactile people. But I know I’m going to have to stop dipping my fingers in chemicals eventually. I don’t want my body to develop an intolerance to the stuff.”

“What’s the longest you spent in a darkroom?”

Bucky offered a sheepish grin. “I’d have to say twelve hours.”

“Wow, did you at least take a break from inhaling all those chemicals and grab something to eat?” Steve asked. He remembered how strong the photographic chemicals were and why ventilation was so important.

“I had granola bars with me. I didn’t exactly take breaks.” Bucky replied, shrugging his shoulders. It seemed he was waiting to be chided.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “How did that go?”

“I got a lot done but the chemicals were getting to me. It was intense because I was so focused on what I needed to do. I kinda left the darkroom in a bit of a haze. I wasn’t quite high but that was my first and last darkroom marathon.”

“What did you do after you were done?” 

“I had a burger, strawberry milkshake, and a good night’s sleep,” Bucky smiled. “That fixed everything.”

Steve flipped through the images one more time. He took a closer look at the portrait of an older woman sitting in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, framed by the doorway in front of her. The door itself swung wide up against the wall to the right of the threshold. Dressed in jeans, sneakers and a sleeveless shirt that revealed tattoos on both upper arms, the woman stared right into the camera. Soft light illuminated her left side of her face and body, leaving the rest in semi-darkness. 

In Steve’s opinion, it is a beautifully composed image, but it’s not the composition that drew him in; it was the look on the woman’s face and how she carried herself. The best way he could describe it was she looked unguarded.

“Who is this woman?”

“That’s Anita. She lives down the street from us,” Bucky replied. “She’s a vet tech.”

“Do you know her?”

“I wave to her but I don’t know her very well. But Mom knows her. They like to chat once in a while. Why do you ask?”

“She looks very comfortable having her picture taken.”

“Funny you would say that. She’s not crazy about having her picture taken. She doesn’t think she photographs well. She agreed to being photographed because she knew Mom and she always thought me and Becca were good kids.”

Steve looked at the photo of Anita again. “She photographs well. I have to disagree with her.” 

“Surprisingly, she actually loved this image. It was more than a portrait for her. It looked like art to her, so she asked for a print. I told her she could have the one I showed her but she wanted something a little bigger like 16x20 and she wanted to pay for it, too. She has it hanging in her dining room now.”

“It seems you have a way with people,” Steve mused. “That will take you far in getting the kinds of images you want to create from your subjects.”

He handed the portfolio back to Bucky. “Thank you for letting me look at your work. You have a great eye. The nuanced details that you’ve captured in some of your images are what will make you unique.”

“Thanks. To be honest, I wasn’t aware of those details until after I’d developed the film and made working prints to see what I had.”

“That’s your subconscious guiding you. You’ll start seeing those details more often the more aware you become of what’s in front of you. That takes time. Before you know it, you’ll see your image before you look through the viewfinder.”

Bucky smiled. “It’s really good to hear a perspective from someone outside of the classroom, the one-on-one sessions, and the lecture rooms. I’ve been doing really well with the course work but sometimes it feels like I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Maybe I’m feeling this way because it’s going to be my final year and after that, I’m gonna be set loose into the world. That can be an overwhelming thought.”

Steve sympathized with how Bucky felt while smiling at the thought of a semi-feral Bucky making his way in the world.

“Yeah, I understand,” he said. “We’ve all had our ‘what the fuck’ moments where you feel like an imposter or you’re not entirely sure this is what you really want to do or were meant to do. All doubts aside, is photography something you see yourself doing for the rest of your life?”

“Yes,” Bucky answered emphatically. “Of course, there will be other things that I’d like to do like put my architecture knowledge to good use. I know there are opportunities that I haven’t thought about but I’ll probably want to pursue because my brain won’t allow me to be a one-trick pony.”

Steve chuckled. “You don’t strike me as a one-trick pony. Anyway, try not to overwhelm yourself. Just breathe and remember what you want for yourself and for your life. Remember the things you learned, the things that resonated with you most and let it sit in your bones. You’ll be fine. But just remember the advice is coming from someone who didn’t finish their Master's degree. So, take it with a grain of salt.”

“Have you ever thought about finishing your degree?”

Steve paused for a moment. He had asked himself that question a number of times over the last five years. Every time, the question was left unanswered.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” Steve replied. “ Some days, I think about it and I just keep sitting on the fence. And I hate sitting on the fence.”

“For me, having that Master’s degree represents all the work I put in to get it,” said Bucky. “I’m kinda goal-oriented. So, it means more to me that I know I accomplished something. And maybe for you, it might not mean as much. Maybe it’s not wrong to leave it unfinished. If you’re cool with it, then great. But if you’ve been thinking about it, maybe you’re not as comfortable with leaving it the way it is as you thought you were?” Bucky shrugged. “I won’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t do about the degree. It’s not my business. You’ll do what’s right for you. That’s what Mom always tells me and Becca.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Or your mom is right. The answer will come to me one day.”

“It will. By the way, did you finish the drawing of me in the diner?”

“Yes, it’s finished,” Steve replied, thankful that Bucky wanted to move on to another subject. “Would you like to see it?”

“Yes, I would,” Bucky said, excitedly.

• • • • •

The sun was setting but there was still enough ambient light in the studio for Steve to not need to turn on the lights. The drawing easel sat in the same spot, covered by the same drop cloth. Silently, Steve unveiled the drawing.

Awestruck and moved, Bucky stared at it. The details of the diner were fully rendered. The lunch counter and cash register were in the background along with the menu board.

“Do you have a photographic memory?” he asked.

“Some would argue that I do,” Steve replied. “I’m not entirely convinced because I wasn’t sure if I captured everything. Some things, I softened because it didn’t seem important to me but I think I remembered most of what I needed.”

Bucky took a step forward for a closer look at the drawing. He noticed his likeness had a subtle color of flesh tone, making him pop out against the black and grey of the diner. His clothes were kissed with color, too. Steve had added colored pencils to the piece.

In the drawing, his faded denim jeans were blue; his sneakers were grey. The shirt he wore that day was white but it had a coffee stain and Steve had remembered it. The green waist apron was wrapped tightly around him with the guest check pad peeking out of one the pockets. And a red dish towel hung out of his back pocket. He was amazed at what Steve could recall. This wasn’t what Steve would normally put onto paper or canvas. He felt so special that Steve would draw him unprompted.

“This is fantastic, Steve. I love it.” 

The idea of posing as one of Steve’s figure studies barrelled into his head unannounced, and it appealed to him in every way.

“Would you draw me as one of your figure studies?” he blurted out.

Steve blinked at him. “Yes, of course I would. I would love to, Buck. Are you sure? Do you have any art modeling experience?”

Bucky smiled, excited that Steve wanted to do this. “Yes, I’m sure. Uhm, I don’t have any experience but I have worked with models. And I have a friend who is working on her master’s degree in sculpture. She does it for extra money while she’s attending classes. I can email her and ask for her perspective.”

Steve smiled fondly at his excitement. “You’re not studying for a test. You don’t necessarily have to get pointers from your friend,” he said, taking the drawing off the easel and laying it down on the table. “But I won’t discourage you. Every artist is different in how they work with a model. That’s probably the first thing she’ll tell you. Plus, she’ll probably give you general pointers about what you should expect from the artist and what the artist expects from you. Pay attention to what she has to say regarding what a model should expect in the work environment.”

“Okay, I’ll do that,” said Bucky, absorbing the advice Steve was giving him. “But to be perfectly honest, you’re the only artist I would probably pose for.”

Steve paused to look at him. “May I ask you why you want to do this? I appreciate the offer and I’m most definitely taking you up on it. But I was honestly surprised you asked. It never crossed my mind that you would be up for being one of my subjects.”

“Well, I have two reasons,” Bucky started. “The first reason is I was curious about what it was like to be on the other side of the lens or easel. I think doing that creates a better understanding for me, as the artist or photographer of what the model might be thinking or experiencing, and make it a better work experience for them.”

“That’s thoughtful and very practical,” Steve responded. “I don’t know many artists who would consider doing that. What’s your second reason?”

“I just want to be closer to you,” Bucky stated, taking a couple of steps forward towards Steve. His heart sped up a bit; the small of his back grew very warm. He could feel sweat starting to pool. “I’d like to spend more time with you.”

Steve’s face softened even more than it already had. He reached out, cupping Bucky’s face and kissed him. Bucky groaned into the kiss, raking his fingers down Steve’s back. He wanted to tear at Steve’s clothes; he wanted to feel bare skin underneath his fingers.

Skimming his fingers along the hem of Steve’s cotton t-shirt, Bucky raised it high enough to feel warm, bare skin against his knuckles. He ran the palm of his hands over the lean muscles of his back until he reached the shoulders and held on as Steve nibbled his way down Bucky’s throat.

He gasped and whined at the sensation of Steve marking his neck. His cock twitched, involuntarily pushing himself against Steve’s groin. Steve held steady, keeping him pinned against the edge of the wooden table. Bucky felt hot; Steve’s mouth was hotter. His skin was damp, and he desperately wanted out of his clothes. He wanted to be naked and laid bare for Steve to take. He whined again.

“What do you want Buck?” Steve asked, his voice thick with desire.

“You. I want you,” he replied. 

Letting go of Bucky, Steve took hold of his hand and led him out of the studio.


	5. Skip the nightcap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sudden wave of self-consciousness regarding his body washed over Bucky. He froze in unfounded fear, his eyes locked with Steve’s.
> 
> “Is something wrong?” Steve asked as he approached the bed. 
> 
> “Nothing,” he replied. “It’s just nobody has ever looked at me the way you’re looking at me now.”
> 
> “How am I looking at you?”
> 
> “I don’t know… maybe like I’m some sort of exotic creature you’ve never seen before?”
> 
> Steve cupped the back of Bucky’s head and pulled him in for a kiss. “You’re right. I’ve never looked at anyone the way I’m looking at you now. You are an exotic creature, Buck. You’re beautiful, and I’m fortunate to have you here in my bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's horny hours, folks :) That's all I can say about this chapter.
> 
> Next chapter will be posted this Friday. Another big thank you to everyone following this fic. We appreciate the support :)

Bucky’s heart beat quickly in anticipation as Steve led him into his bedroom. He bounced between eagerness and mild terror. He wasn’t terrified about the sex; he was terrified about being truly vulnerable with Steve. He knew Steve would be the only person capable of seeing and understanding who he was, seeing the true essence of his being.

“Are you nervous?”

Bucky looked up at Steve. “Huh?”

“Are you nervous, Buck?” Steve asked, smiling softly. “You looked like you were somewhere else?”

“I was just thinking. And no, I’m not nervous. Not really.”

Steve cupped Bucky’s face, and caressed his cheek with his thumb. “What do you mean by ‘not really’?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know about you but being with you is significant to me. I haven’t had a lot of experience but the experiences I had were casual. It was more about getting off with the person who had the same agenda. You know… no obligations, no strings attached, no intention of pursuing a relationship. I kinda tried a couple of times, but...”

“You weren’t ready,” Steve commented.

Bucky shook his head. “I guess not.”

“You’re saying you might be ready now?”

Bucky swallowed thickly as his heart pounded loudly in his ears. “Yeah, I’m saying I’m ready and I want to pursue a relationship with you… only if you’re interested in doing the same. If not, that’s okay, too. I can work with keeping it casual.”

Steve sighed as he placed the balls of his feet on top of Bucky’s feet to keep him from moving. With one hand on Bucky’s hip and the other on the nape of his neck, Steve kissed him. His tongue slipped into Bucky’s mouth, hungry and possessive. Bucky whimpered. A minute later, Steve pulled back, taking his feet off Bucky’s. Gently, he held Bucky’s face with both hands.

“Buck, you don’t deserve to accept something casual when that’s not what you want. I would never let you settle for something less.” He paused. “And if you couldn’t tell from that kiss, I want nothing more than to pursue a relationship with you. I want you in my life.”

Bucky bit his lower lip before kissing him again. It thrilled him to hear Steve state his intention. His hands reached down to undo the button and zipper of Steve’s jeans. Steve gasped into his mouth before chuckling.

“Eager?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yes, since you wouldn’t let me do anything to you the last time I was here,” Bucky explained. “I need to taste you, if you don’t mind.”

“All you had to do was ask. I’ll give you a taste,” Steve grinned, taking his t-shirt off.

Bucky quickly tossed his henley off to some unknown part of the bedroom and dropped to his knees. Licking his lips, he tugged Steve’s jeans down to his mid-thigh. Running the palm of his hand along his length, Bucky heard Steve groan, feeling him stir under his touch. Pressing his lips against the fabric of the boxer briefs, he mouthed his cock. A hand gripped his shoulder. Steve tensed.

Gently, Bucky tugged at the underwear, pulling it down until Steve’s cock bobbed out at him. 

Taking hold of the shaft, he slowly stroked Steve. Licking the head, he tasted pre-cum spilling out of the slit. He teased the frenulum with the tip of his tongue. 

Fingers buried themselves in his hair, gently grazing over his scalp. The sensation was soothing, making Bucky groan as he put the tip into his mouth to suckle.

Steve moaned; a flurry of expletives spilling out of his mouth as he gently tugged Bucky’s hair. 

“God, Buck, that mouth of yours is sweet,” Steve praised. “I wanna fuck it.”

Bucky’s jeans were becoming uncomfortably tight. He palmed his groin, trying to relieve some of the throbbing ache. Pulling off, Bucky looked up at Steve. “Would you? I don’t know if I can take all of you, but I’m willing to try.”

Through half-lidded eyes and long lashes, Steve regarded him. “Have you ever had your mouth fucked before?”

“A couple of times but I haven’t figured out how to relax enough to keep from gagging,” Bucky confessed. “I do like it a lot. I’d appreciate it if you could help me practice,” he suggested with a shy smile.

“I’d be more than happy to help you practice,” Steve replied. 

Bucky gave him a winsome smile before licking the length of Steve’s cock and engulfing it into his mouth. He closed his eyes, relishing the weight of it sitting on his tongue. 

He dug his fingers into Steve’s hips as a pair of hands cradled his head.

“Relax,” Steve coaxed. “I’ll be careful with you.”

Bucky tapped his fingers against Steve’s hips to let him know he understood. 

Steve began moving in and out of his mouth at what Bucky thought he was a glacial pace, but he understood Steve was only going as far as Bucky was prepared to handle. He squeezed his fingers around his hips to get Steve’s attention.

“Do you want more?” Steve asked.

Bucky hummed pleasantly. He felt Steve’s hips twitch under his hands. Steve moved from the glacial pace into something more rhythmic and steady. Bucky relaxed into it. He felt drool trailing down his chin.

“Your mouth is perfect,” Steve rasped. “God, you feel so good. I can’t wait to fuck that sweet ass of yours.”

Bucky felt the tip of the cock nudge at the back of his throat. The urge to gag was instant, making him pull back. He turned his head, gasping and coughing into his forearm. Steve dropped to his knees, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I’m alright,” Bucky breathed. “I’m sorry. I killed the mood.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Steve replied, pulling him into a hug. “You didn’t kill anything.”

Breathing in Steve’s scent, Bucky felt secure in his arms despite feeling horribly embarrassed that he couldn’t take all of him. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking into his eyes. “Usually, when this happens, the mood dies and the other person doesn’t want to continue or we continue and it doesn’t feel right anymore. I wanted this to be good for you.”

Steve gently kissed him. “First of all, the mood didn’t die. Second, being with you feels really good, regardless of any perceived missteps that have occurred. And last but definitely not least, I still want to fuck your ass.”

Bucky laughed. “I’m sorry, you have no idea how funny that sounds to me right now.”

“I’m glad you can still laugh,” smiled Steve. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. It’s supposed to be fun and make you and your partner feel good. So what if we run into a glitch or two along the way?”

Bucky felt Steve slide his hands into his jeans and squeeze his ass cheeks tightly, making him yelp. The hard length of Steve’s cock rubbed up against the bulge in his jeans. He wasn’t sure who was groaning louder, him or Steve. He had a feeling Steve was enjoying rubbing up against the denim material a little too much.

“Let’s get you out of those jeans and into bed,” Steve growled, lifting Bucky up onto his feet. “I wanna see how gorgeous you are.”

Bucky couldn’t agree more with the sentiment. Eagerly, he hopped onto the bed, ridding himself of his jeans and underwear. He looked up at Steve to find him stroking himself as he took a long hard look at his naked form. He saw hunger in his eyes, and it was overwhelming.

A sudden wave of self-consciousness regarding his body washed over Bucky. He froze in unfounded fear, his eyes locked with Steve’s.

“Is something wrong?” Steve asked as he approached the bed. 

“Nothing,” he replied. “It’s just nobody has ever looked at me the way you’re looking at me now.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“I don’t know… maybe like I’m some sort of exotic creature you’ve never seen before?”

Steve cupped the back of Bucky’s head and pulled him in for a kiss. “You’re right. I’ve never looked at anyone the way I’m looking at you now. You are an exotic creature, Buck. You’re beautiful, and I’m fortunate to have you here in my bed.”

The words warmed Bucky, and the self-doubt started fading away.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I’m the fortunate one here? I mean you’re just as beautiful; not just physically, but you’re beautiful intellectually and emotionally.”

Steve chuckled softly. “I’m not perfect, Buck. Nobody’s perfect. We’re all flawed creatures.”

“I didn’t say you were perfect, but you’re perfect to me; and I’m not accepting any arguments to the contrary.”

Steve sighed, clearly deciding to drop the discussion for something more agreeable. “Lie down.”

Sinking back into the moment, Bucky did as he was told, unabashedly stroking himself as he watched Steve open the nightstand drawer to pull out a strip of condoms and a bottle of lube. Leaving the items on the nightstand, Steve smirked as he situated himself between Bucky’s legs. 

“Stop doing that,” Steve ordered.

“Stop doing what?”

“Touching yourself.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to take care of you, that’s why.”

Bucky continued stroking himself just to see what Steve would do. Steve stared at him.

“Being bratty, huh?”

“Maybe,” Bucky grinned.

Firmly taking hold of Bucky’s wrist, Steve moved it over Bucky’s head. He repeated the same move with the other wrist before pressing himself flush against Bucky’s groin. Bucky whimpered at the feel of Steve’s balls pressed against his perineum.

“If you keep your hands to yourself, I’ll make sure you see stars when you come.”

“Is that a promise? Because that sounds like a pretty big promise. Are you sure I’m going to see stars? Maybe I’ll see flying pigs instead,” Bucky teased.

Steve smiled as he growled. “Playful, are we?”

Bucky shrugged, enjoying being pinned down by the blue-eyed man. He wriggled his body just to see how much leeway Steve was going to give him. It turned out not to be very much.

“Nice try, Buck,” Steve smirked. “Keep your hands to yourself. Think you can do that?”

Bucky knew he could follow that request easily, but at the moment, he wasn’t so sure. The predominant thought overtaking the one brain cell he had left was to literally get his hands all over Steve if he would allow it. Maybe a month from now, he could keep his hands to himself. Or not. 

“Okay, but can I touch you?” he asked.

“What part of ‘keep your hands to yourself’ did you not understand?”

“What if I don’t touch myself but I can touch you? I have to put my hands somewhere. Why can’t I just rest them on your shoulders, your head, or your arms? I won’t direct what you should do to me.”

Steve dipped his head to kiss him, rocking his hips into Bucky. Bucky whined as their cocks rubbed against each other, losing himself in the moment. Steve continued for another minute before stopping to catch their breath.

“If you have to touch me, you can,” Steve stated.

Bucky blinked trying to recall what their conversation was before Steve began rutting against him. 

Steve chuckled. “You asked if you could touch me as long as you didn’t touch yourself. I’m saying you can.”

“Okay… I remember now… How benevolent of you.”

“Benevolence is my middle name,” Steve smirked.

Bucky laughed, rubbing his heels against Steve’s butt cheeks. “I really don’t think that’s your middle name. And don’t be an asshole.”

“Your feet are dry.”

“Excuse me?”

“My ass is telling me you feel like sandpaper.”

“Do you want me to put my feet somewhere else? Like over my head?”

Steve chuckled. “As tempting as that sounds, no, not yet. I actually like your sandpaper feet.”

“Wow, you’re weird.”

“No weirder than you, would be my guess,” Steve grinned. “I’m a tactile person. You’re the same.”

“Guilty as charged.” Bucky tried again to wriggle underneath the weight of Steve as he tightened his legs around his waist. “Now give me something to feel.”

Steve arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you always this bossy?”

“When I know something good is about to come my way, yes.”

“Pun intended?”

“Unintended.”

Steve hummed before releasing Bucky’s wrists, sitting back on his heels. Bucky watched him contemplate his next move.

“I have a couple of ideas if you’re wondering what you want to do next,” Bucky offered with a cheeky grin.

“Smart ass. I already know what I’m going to do.” Steve lightly grazed the palm of his hand over the length of Bucky’s cock while his other hand fondled his balls. 

His touch had Bucky shuddering. “Okay, I’m good with what you have planned.”

“Glad you see it my way.” 

Steve bent down to run his tongue from the base of Bucky’s cock to the tip. The head slipped into his wet, hot mouth. Bucky gasped as Steve sucked on the head.

“Oh, fuck,” he swore. Panting, he watched Steve take the length of his cock into his mouth. Almost jumping out of his skin when he hit the back of Steve’s throat, he squeezed his eyes shut trying not to come too soon. “I’m gonna fucking lose it if you keep doing that,” he said gritting his teeth. “Too soon.”

“Don’t worry about holding back or coming sooner than you wanted. We’ll work on your stamina,” Steve said in a low, playful smug tone.

“My stamina is just fine,” Bucky countered, annoyed with his growing lack of control. “You’re just that fucking good.”

Steve chuckled. “A generous compliment. Thank you.” Keeping his gaze locked on Bucky, he returned to his ministrations. 

Bucky could only hold Steve’s gaze before he had to close his eyes and turn his head. Steve’s oral skills were going to kill him, he thought as his body stiffened; he was certain of this.

“Open your eyes and look at me, Buck.”

“No. If I do, I’m going to come.”

“Then don’t hold back. Stop denying yourself.” Steve was so calm. It annoyed Bucky that he was so patient with him.

“Too soon,” he growled again, still fighting the urge to come. His hands reached down for Steve’s forearms, reflexively squeezing and releasing as if he was manipulating a stress ball.

Gently kissing the tops of Bucky’s hands, Steve grinned. “It’s never too soon, Buck.” 

Steve groaned in pleasure tasting Bucky. He was clearly hungry for him and that alone overwhelmed Bucky. Steve’s slick hot mouth and a playful, relentless velvet tongue wiped all thought processes from Bucky’s mind. A finger pressed against his entrance, rubbing firmly yet gently until the tip pushed past the entrance. 

That was Bucky’s undoing. His body stiffened and he cried out, spilling into Steve’s mouth. 

The only sound in the bedroom was Bucky catching his breath as he muttered Steve’s name in vain, over and over again. Steve continued to milk him until Bucky was too sensitive to take it anymore. Bucky relaxed completely once Steve pulled off and kissed both hips.

He felt Steve crawl up to him. Their lips touched. Steve still had cum in his mouth. Bucky eagerly slipped his tongue into his mouth, wanting to taste himself. He groaned, searching and licking what he could find.

After a minute, Steve pulled back. “You taste like a dream.”

Bucky blushed. “I didn’t mean to come so soon.”

Steve looked mildly exasperated but fondly at him. “What did I tell you?”

“Stop apologizing for my lack of willpower?”

Steve laughed. “If you want to put it that way, sure. Buck, you’re amazing. You’re so responsive. The things we could try. You and me, we’re going to have lots of fun.”

Bucky smiled, liking the sound of that very much. He also felt Steve’s still hard cock pressed against his left hip. He reached over to the nightstand for the condoms and lube, and handed them over to Steve who gave him a curious expression.

“Is that a hint?” he asked.

“Yes, you’re not done. Even if you said you were, your dick disagrees with you,” Bucky said, squirming underneath him enough to remind Steve that he had something in need of attention.

Steve kissed him before pushing himself up and sitting back on his heels. “Grab a pillow and place it under your hips,” he instructed, stroking himself.

Still feeling boneless but eager to have Steve inside him, Bucky shoved a pillow underneath his hips, adjusting for an angle he thought would be good for both of them.

“Would you like me to open you up or are you good if I lube up and start slow?” Steve asked, ripping open the condom package.

“I’m feeling pretty good, right now,” Bucky replied, stretching like a cat waking up from an afternoon nap. “I don’t think I need much, but I love getting fingered, though.”

“If it’s fingering you want, it’s fingering you’ll get.”

Bucky propped up onto his elbows to watch Steve put on the condom. “Need a little help with that?”

“I can handle this part, thanks. I didn’t think you were in a rush? I thought I wore you out.”

“I’m getting my second wind watching you.”

“Good to know.” Steve looked at Bucky for a moment. “You know what? I changed my mind. On your hands and knees, please.” He placed the condom back on the nightstand. 

Bucky raised his eyes at him and grinned. Pushing the pillow aside, he obeyed the order.

Steve paused, taking in the sight of Bucky presenting himself. He nudged his knees further apart, lightly caressing the back of his thighs. Bucky shivered under his touch.

“Still sensitive?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Bucky replied. He was unsure.

Steve placed his hands on Bucky’s butt cheeks and massaged them. “I’ll go slow. If it feels overwhelming, let me know.”

Bucky nodded.

Squeezing some lube onto his fingers, Steve warmed it before brushing his fingers over the puckered muscle. Bucky gasped quietly. He pushed back against the hand. Steve’s finger easily breached the entrance. Steve smiled listening to Bucky sigh. It didn’t take long for Steve to slip in a second finger. Bucky groaned.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked, his fingers moving in and out of Bucky.

“Really good. You’re good with your hands, too.”

“So you want me to keep going?”

“Until you decide you’ve had enough and want to replace your fingers with your cock.”

“Which do you prefer?”

“I like both but I’d really like you to split me open.”

“That’s a crude way of saying you want me to pound you.”

“Fuck me through the mattress. Is that a better phrase?”

Steve chuckled, locating the prostate, then proceeding to brush his fingers over it. Bucky yelped; his body jerking involuntarily against Steve. He rested his forehead on the mattress, panting as he tried to catch his breath. His body trembled. 

“Shhh, easy, Buck,” he soothed, pulling his fingers out. He ran his hand up and down Bucky’s spine. “Was that too much?”

“I wasn’t expecting it to be so intense,” Bucky replied. “Did I startle you? Did I bump you?”

“You surprised me,” Steve said, reaching for the box of tissue sitting on the nightstand. “Yes, you bumped me, but I didn’t lose my balance. I’m more concerned about the fact my fingers were inside you.”

Steve climbed off the bed, opened the nightstand drawer again to dig out a latex glove for his right hand.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked. “I feel alright. Your fingernails are always trimmed; I’m fine.”

“Do you always look at my fingers?” Steve squeezed lube onto the gloved fingers.

“I like your hands and your fingers happen to be a part of your hands.” Bucky narrowed his eyes at the glove. “I’m pretty sure you’re not a medical doctor, unless there’s something you’d like to share with me. Now would be a good time to show me your medical degree.”

Steve chuckled again. “This is the only way that makes sense to me at the moment. I’m just making sure you’re not bleeding. If you are, we stop.” 

Bucky figured Steve knew he was probably being overly cautious but he simply wanted to make sure Bucky wasn’t injured.

Bucky huffed. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate you looking out for my health. I do. I’m just letting you know I have at least another two and a half decades before I start getting my prostate checked.”

Steve placed his left hand on Bucky’s left butt cheek. “Consider this a very early preview of what’s to come when you turn 50.”

“Says the man who hasn’t had his first prostate exam yet. Let me know what it’s like when you get around to it, old man,” Bucky snickered. The snickering ended the minute Steve slid his finger inside.

“Sorry, if it feels a little cold,” Steve said, twisting his finger for a second or a few.

“You’re not sorry. I can hear you smiling.”

Sliding his finger out, Steve looked over his gloved finger. “You’re awfully clean. And that’s meant to be a compliment if you were wondering.”

“See? I told you I was feeling fine. And thanks for the compliment. I have to admit I cleaned up as soon as I got home.”

Steve smirked as he removed the glove, tossing it into the wastebasket in the adjoining bathroom and washed his hands. “You were expecting something to happen this evening?”

“It was inevitable,” Bucky said casually, lying on his back and shoving a pillow under his hips. “We’re here now, aren’t we?”

“We are indeed.” Steve allowed himself a moment to let his gaze roam over Bucky’s body. 

Walking over to the nightstand, he picked up the condom, aware Bucky was watching every move he was making. He turned to find Bucky stroking himself and smiling. Steve smiled back. “Shall we continue?”

“Yes, please,” Bucky replied, his gaze not so subtly dropping down at Steve’s cock. “I have a confession to make, though.”

Steve settled between Bucky’s legs. “Tell me what you need to get off your chest.”

“The gloved hand is a turn-on.”

After rolling on the condom, Steve placed his hands on Bucky’s knees. Giving them a gentle squeeze, his hands traveled to the sensitive part of the inner thighs. Bucky squirmed.

“Is this something you discovered now or is this something you’ve known about yourself for awhile?”

“I just realized it now after you used the glove on me.”

“That wasn’t for sexual purposes.”

“I know. But maybe if you had a pair of black latex gloves…”

Steve arched an eyebrow at him.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders as if he was trying to downplay the suggestion. “None of my previous partners were into using… accessories,” he continued. “We just hooked up and got off. We never thought about toys or role-playing.”

“You’d like to try role-playing?” Steve smirked.

Bucky’s cheeks pinkened. “Maybe. If that’s something we could explore together? As well as the gloves.” He sounded quite adamant about the gloves which made Steve smile.

“I haven’t role-played before; I never had a reason to. But I wouldn’t mind exploring that with you,” Steve remarked, coating his cock with lube.

Bucky smiled, looking relieved that his fantasies weren’t being shot down. 

Steve brushed Bucky’s taint with the tip of his cock. Bucky inhaled sharply and whined. Steve guided the head up towards the balls, pressing gently at the base before lining himself with the puckered hole. He traced the rim before pressing against the entrance. Listening to Bucky relax and breathe deeply, Steve pushed past his entrance into tight heat. 

“Oh God, yeah,” Bucky sighed. 

“Feeling okay?”

“Better than okay, Steve. Fuck, you feel incredible.”

“I’m not all the way in yet.”

“I know, but I love how you stretch me.”

Steve loved how complementary Bucky was. It wasn’t necessary because there were other ways he could tell how Bucky was feeling at the moment. Nevertheless, he appreciated Bucky communicating his sentiments.

Slowly and steadily, Steve pushed until his balls were pressed up against Bucky’s ass. He paused to feel Bucky. He felt hot and tight around him, just the way he loved it. He noticed Bucky was still touching himself.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Buck.”

This time, Bucky complied, seemingly content to let Steve take control of the situation. “Good boy.”

Bucky grinned, wriggling to encourage Steve to start moving his hips.

“I see someone is in a hurry,” Steve mused.

“Not in a hurry,” Bucky corrected. “I just don’t feel like being a cock warmer at the moment.”

Steve pulled back his cock until all that was left was the head still inside Bucky. “If I wanted you to be a cock warmer,” he said. Then he slammed his hips into Bucky, making him keen. “I think using your mouth would be far more interesting.”

Steve noticed the glint in Bucky’s eyes that said ‘yes, please’ and filed it away in the back of his mind for another time. He quickly settled into alternating between slow and deep, and hard and pounding thrusts. Watching Bucky react physically and vocally whenever he changed the pace was addictive for Steve. It was intoxicating for him to pleasure Bucky. He would fuck him all day if that was what Bucky wanted. He wanted to give his lover everything under the sun.

“You’re such a good boy, Buck. You were meant to take my cock, weren’t you?”

“Oh, God, I hope so,” Bucky groaned, his hands gripping the bedsheets. “You feel so fucking good. I want to be the only one taking your cock.” 

The unfiltered sentiment made Steve grin madly. “Good, because I want to be the only one who gets to fuck and eat your ass,” he growled.

He eyed Bucky’s hands inching closer to his cock. It was shining wet at the tip, deep pink and in need of being touched.

“No hands, Buck,” Steve warned, tightening his grip around his lover’s thighs.

Bucky bit his lower lip and clenched his fists before moving them away to clutch at the bedsheets again.

“Good boy. That deserves a reward,” Steve commented. Reaching down, he began stroking Bucky, matching rhythm and pace of his own thrusts. Bucky immediately whimpered at the sensation.

Bucky tightened around him, making Steve gasp and grunt.

“Jesus, Buck. I could fuck your sweet ass all day like this,” Steve growled, tightening his grip on Bucky’s cock. Bucky sobbed, his body stiffening with each passing second. “Are you gonna come again?”

Bucky simply nodded. 

“Remember what I said about not holding back?”

Bucky nodded again.

“Good. Then do that.”

Seconds later, Bucky cried out, coming for the second time this evening. Shots of come covered his stomach and Steve’s fist. Steve continued to fuck Bucky through his orgasm. The pulsating heat surrounding his cock was delicious, wanting to milk him, wanting him to come. Steve adjusted Bucky’s hips, pulling him closer until it seemed that Bucky’s ass was practically on his lap. 

“Hold on, Buck,” he warned.

Planting his elbows on either side of Bucky’s shoulders, Steve thrusted hard and deep into him. He needed to bury himself deep inside Bucky and never leave. He almost didn’t feel Bucky’s fingers digging into his ribs; he was distracted by Bucky breathlessly urging him on.

Steve knew he was losing himself in the moment as he chased after his orgasm. Burying his nose into the crook of Bucky’s neck, he pushed his hips into Bucky several more times before he roared and came. Inelegantly, he collapsed on top of Bucky. Kisses peppered his cheek.

“That was… wow,” Bucky whispered into his ear.

“Yeah, it was,” Steve replied, trying to catch his breath.

Steve realized they were damp and sticky; he also realized he was still lying on top of Bucky. Carefully pushing himself up and off of him, Steve rolled onto his back, got out of bed, and walked to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean up with a warm, damp towel. Grabbing another towel, he dampened it with water and returned to Bucky who looked at him with one eye open.

“I guess I’m a little messy,” he remarked.

“You are,” Steve agreed. “We should clean you up before you start to feel really uncomfortable. Do you want to do it, or do you want me to do it for you?”

Bucky yawned. “Would you mind? I’ll return the favor next time.”

“Sure. I’m holding you to it,” Steve said as he wiped the towel over Bucky’s chest and stomach.

“I know you will.”

Once Steve was done, he tossed the towel into the bathroom and laid down next to Bucky who quickly snuggled into his arms.

For a minute, both men laid quietly listening to their breathing and the quiet of the evening. Steve searched out for Bucky’s hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it. He held it as he softly caressed the knuckles with his thumb. Hearing Bucky sigh, Steve turned his head to find Bucky fondly staring at him.

“I’ll give you a kiss if you tell me what you’re thinking,” said Steve.

“I’m just thinking this might be my best dinner date ever,” Bucky replied.

Steve pulled him in for a tender kiss. “You might want to hold off on that proclamation of best dinner date ever. I think we’ll be having more dinner dates in the future.”

Bucky smiled. “I don’t know, Steve. That was pretty spectacular. It had a little of everything, including the stops and starts.”

“It’s the stops and starts that make it unique, Buck. The imperfections make it perfect.”

“You’re full of these life observations.”

“Gotta make sense of the world somehow. While I respect all religions, making sense of the world through organized religion isn’t something I need to do.”

“Same here. Mom and Dad used to go to church but they gradually stopped going.”

“Any particular reason?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like we went to church every Sunday to begin with. I think we went about twice a month. We kept going after Dad died but mom got busier with the diner because it was just her now instead of her and Dad. We still made sure to go for Christmas mass but I don’t think Mom or Becca have done that since I went to Chicago.”

“If they started going to Christmas mass again, would you join them?”

“Maybe. I would go only because Mom asked me to. She actually liked going and I didn’t mind.”

“Well, if you ever need company, I’ll join you.”

Bucky blinked. “That’s pretty generous coming from a person who doesn’t look at the world through the lens of organized religion.”

“I’ve never been to one,” Steve reasoned. “It couldn’t hurt to see what it’s all about for one evening. And it is centered around Christmas.”

“You like Christmas?”

“I love Christmas. Even though Ma isn’t here anymore, I still celebrate it in my own little way.”

“Do you get a big Christmas tree?”

“Nah, I get a small tree from the lot in town. When it was me and Ma, we’d get a big one.” 

Steve’s memories of Christmas with his parents, then with only his mother, darted through his mind. Picking the Christmas tree from a tree lot had always been a favorite family event. Steve remembered having fun looking at every tree, trying to decide if the one in front of him was the right one for their living room. 

The first Christmas without both of them had been extremely difficult. The holiday hadn’t been the same since she died. He still had boxes of ornaments tucked away in one of the rooms he had assigned for storage. He had thought about getting rid of the boxes but couldn’t bring himself to do it because they were his mother’s favorite Christmas decorations. He couldn’t toss something away that his mother loved.

“You have a lot of memories attached to the big trees.”

“Yeah, and that’s why I get a small one. It’s manageable for me. I don’t get as maudlin.”

“Maybe one day, you’ll be ready to take a big tree again.”

“Maybe. You never know.” Steve hoped one day that would be true.

“You know you could spend Christmas with me, Mom and Becca,” Bucky offered.

Steve’s chest bloomed with warmth at Bucky’s suggestion. “Let’s see how things go and ask me again in December.”

“I know how things are gonna go,” Bucky said with confidence. “And you’re coming to our house for Christmas dinner. Mom would definitely load you up with leftovers that will feed you right through to New Year’s.”

Steve laughed. “I wouldn’t put it past her to do that. Ask me in December anyway, okay?”

“Okay.”

Lying cuddled together in the afterglow, Steve realized he had been missing the warmth and comfort of another body in his bed. It wasn’t the sex he missed. Back in New York, sex had been easy to find and he wasn’t lacking in willing partners for one-night stands. But he was always searching for intimacy; that had been harder to find, and to find it in the right person was next to impossible. It wasn’t that he had a list of traits or characteristics he wanted in his life partner. Something like that was hard to quantify or make tangible. Ticking off all the boxes on a list wasn’t enough if there wasn’t that extra special something; that intangible thing that told you without hesitation the person you were staring at was the one.

Bucky ticked off all the boxes and then some.

Having him in his arms was so easy and freeing. It felt natural and that was almost scary for Steve. He hadn’t really experienced this before. Now that he was having a taste of the intimacy he craved, he didn’t think he could go back to the way he was living since he arrived in Indiana.

“Would you like to spend the night?”

Bucky raised his head off Steve’s chest and grinned. 

“I have a toothbrush and towels for you to use,” Steve continued. “I’ll even make breakfast.”

Bucky laughed. “I’d love to spend the night with you. You know, you don’t have to throw in breakfast as a bargaining chip, but I’ll take it.” Moving up onto his elbows, he kissed him.

“I know,” Steve replied, smiling.


	6. Not exactly the walk of shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have a confession to make.”
> 
> “Oh?”
> 
> “They thought I was going to return home from our date last night.”
> 
> “But now you’re back twenty-four hours later?”
> 
> “Right.”
> 
> Steve laughed and shook his head. “I’ll walk you to the porch and run.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! Here's the next chapter for your weekend reading pleasure. Enjoy!
> 
> The next chapter will be posted this Monday :)

Soft lips surrounded by a soft yet coarse beard grazed Bucky’s shoulders, coaxing him to open his eyes. For the first time, Bucky took a good look around Steve’s bedroom. 

Like the rest of the house, minus the soft white that enveloped the studio walls, the bedroom was washed in color. The deep sea blue, with its hints of green undertones, filled the room with a sense of serenity and peace. The white wood trim provided a clean contrast against the blue walls and dark-stained wooden floors. The ambient morning light filtering in through the light gray curtain sheers gave the room an ethereal quality.

Bucky’s eyes drifted over to the row of coat hooks sitting underneath a shelf that held photographs, a succulent, and a cactus. Out of the five hooks, only a shirt stained with paint and a baseball cap each laid claim to a hook. The jeans Steve wore last night sat crumpled in a pile on the floor along with his shirt under the hook rack.

Soft lips pressed more firmly against his left shoulder, making Bucky smile.

“I know you’re awake.” Steve murmured against his skin. His voice, deep and husky from sleep, rumbled down Bucky’s spine, making him curl his toes. “Your breathing changed.”

Rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes, Bucky rolled onto his back to gaze into Steve’s eyes. “Good morning,” he smiled. Steve’s hair was damp with a towel wrapped around his waist. He smelled of soap and shampoo.

Steve dipped his head to taste his lips. “Good morning. Did you sleep okay?”

“I slept very well. Your bed is very comfy.”

“It certainly is. I’m glad I could share it with you. Do you want breakfast?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s after nine.”

The time surprised Bucky. Normally, he would wake up around 7:30 in the morning. He rubbed his face. “Nine? What time did we go to sleep?”

“Just after midnight.”

“I haven’t slept for nine hours in a long time. Shit, you wore me out.”

Steve chuckled. “You’re giving me too much credit. I slept the same number of hours as you. Let’s just say we wore each other out.”

“Fair enough. And to get back to the question I didn’t answer; I would love breakfast. Did you have anything special in mind?” he asked, running his fingers lightly over Steve’s forearm. He loved touching his skin. In an odd way, it confirmed for Bucky that he wasn’t dreaming, that Steve was real. Any opportunity to touch him, he’d greedily take.

“Nothing that involves a big production,” Steve replied. “I was thinking bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches on sourdough toast, fresh fruit, coffee. I’ll be using two eggs per sandwich because the sourdough slices will be from the round loaf I have. They’re kind of big. We’ll have breakfast out on the veranda and listen to the birds chatter.”

Bucky’s mouth watered. “I love breakfast sandwiches. Would the yolk be runny?”

“It’s the best part of the sandwich. It has to be runny.”

“Do you have hot sauce?”

“Yes.”

“I like hot sauce on my breakfast sandwiches.”

“I hadn’t thought of doing that before. I usually put salsa on mine.”

“Mild, medium or spicy?”

“I have jars of all three depending on what I’m making. I’m going with spicy this morning.”

“I’ll try one half of my sandwich with salsa if you try one half of yours with hot sauce.”

“Sure, why not? Why don’t you hop in the shower? I’ll leave a clean t-shirt and shorts for you to wear, and I’ll get started on breakfast.”

• • • • •

Looking in the mirror after quickly rubbing a towel through his hair, Bucky noticed several hickies lining the base of his neck. They were low enough that he could hide them with a shirt that had a collar. He frowned slightly at the thought of not wearing t-shirts in public for the next couple of days unless he wanted everyone to see what he had been up to.

Walking out into the bedroom, he spotted a t-shirt and sweatpants that had been cut off at the knees with a pair of scissors, sitting on the bed. Pulling on the shirt, it had Steve’s scent. He paused to inhale deeply before pulling on the shorts. Taking a moment to indulge himself, Bucky looked around the bedroom.

Beside the nightstand was an old wooden trunk with another pile of not quite dirty clothes sitting on top. Hanging on the wall opposite the bed, hung a large painting of the Brooklyn Bridge. He didn’t have to look any further than at the bottom right hand corner of the painting to find Steve’s signature. The slowly darkening sky and the warm colors used in the painting suggested the sun was setting. It was bold and striking; a departure from his nudes. He wondered when Steve had painted it.

He wandered over to a drawing hanging beside the entrance to the bedroom. From what he could tell, it was a framed and matted family portrait drawing of Steve and his parents when he was very young. Steve was just bigger than a toddler. Bucky remembered him mentioning that he was small for a kid his age. So he guessed that he couldn’t have been older than four or five. Tucked in the corner of the frame was the photograph used to draw the family portrait. They were a striking family. Steve definitely looked like his dad, but his smile came from his mom.

The scent of bacon frying tickled his nose. Salivating, Bucky headed out into the kitchen to find Steve standing by the stove in sweatpants and a sleeveless burgundy t-shirt. Quietly, he parked himself beside Steve and kissed his cheek. Steve turned his head to kiss him on the lips.

“You look good in my shirt,” Steve noted. 

“It’s a little wide in the shoulders but very comfortable. Need any help?”

“Could you put the bread in the toaster, please? The setting is already on ‘light.’ The coffee is ready if you want. The mugs are in the cabinet beside you.”

“Do you want your coffee now?” Bucky asked, opening the cabinet door.

“Sure. The bacon is almost done. The eggs are next, then we can put together the sandwiches.”

“Where’s the hot sauce and salsa?” Bucky asked, handing Steve his mug of coffee.

“The salsa is in the fridge and the hot sauce is in the cabinet next to the microwave.”

Much like making dinner last night, Bucky enjoyed the simplicity of making breakfast with Steve. There was an ease in working together. It was something that could easily turn into a habit and it was something he desired.

With their sandwiches assembled, they settled onto the veranda with their breakfast and coffee. The day promised to be a warm one despite the cool breeze blowing through. 

“Shall I take a bite of the half you doused in hot sauce?” Steve smiled, examining his bacon, egg and cheese sandwich.

“You watched me shake a few drops of it onto the egg. You know I didn’t douse it in hot sauce,” Bucky noted. “I have the half with salsa here. On a count of three, we take a bite at the same time?”

“Sure, why not?”

“One,” Bucky started.

“Two,” Steve followed.

“Three,” they said together.

After taking the first bite of their sandwiches, Bucky watched Steve’s tongue flick out at the oozing egg yolk trailing down his hand in an effort to keep it from dripping onto the floor. Then he felt something wet between the middle and rings fingers of his right hand. It appeared he had his own oozing egg yolk problem. Like Steve, he quickly licked up the mess and caught Steve staring at him while he took another bite of his sandwich. Bucky grinned at him.

“What do you think of the hot sauce on the sandwich?” he asked.

“I like it a lot,” Steve replied. “What’s your verdict on the salsa?”

“It’s really good. But let’s be honest, salsa or hot sauce is way better than ketchup for a breakfast sandwich on any given day.”

“Agreed.”

• • • • •

After taking their dirty plates back to the kitchen and returning with refilled coffee mugs, Steve discovered Bucky had left his chair and was now sitting in the hammock, width-wise, with the bowl of strawberries, blueberries and pineapple chunks sitting on his stomach.

“You look very comfortable,” Steve observed, placing the coffee mugs on the wooden crate he used as a small table.

“It’s very comfortable,” Bucky confirmed. “I should get Mom to find a spot on the porch at home or in the backyard and put one of these up. Becca would really like it.”

“I’m pretty sure your mother would tell you to do it yourself since you’re the one who brought it up.”

“I’ll just get you to help me because you’re the reason I’m thinking about it.”

Steve chuckled. “Sure, drag me into your crazy schemes.”

“It’s not that crazy,” Bucky stated, biting into another strawberry. “If I had a crazy idea, it wouldn’t involve my mother. But it _would_ involve you,” he said, smiling angelically.

“Un-huh, right. You know this hammock is built to accommodate two people.”

“Were you looking to the future when you put this up?”

Steve hadn’t thought that was the reason he bought it. He bought the hammock because he could read books and magazines and keep them by his side without having them tumble to the floor because of lack of space. He was also a self-proclaimed space hog. But maybe in the back of his mind, it was a small fantasy he allowed himself to indulge in. The idea of sharing the hammock with someone one day was undeniably appealing.

“Initially, no.”

“Are you saying right now you want to climb into the hammock with me?”

“Yes, I do. Could you scoot over?”

Bucky moved over a few inches as Steve climbed into the hammock. Once he settled in, he reached over to grab the coffee mugs. Handing the coffee over to Bucky, he grabbed the bowl of fruit and balanced it in the space between their hips.

“This is very cozy,” Bucky noted, plucking a pineapple chunk from the bowl.

“It is. It’s also too easy to fall asleep.”

Steve glanced at the hickies decorating Bucky’s neck. “I wish I could say I’m sorry about the marks on your neck, but I’m not. You’re not going to get a lot of grief over them, are you?”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m an adult. I don’t think I need permission to go out and get a hickey from a hot dude. Besides, I’ll just wear shirts with collars for a couple of days or get Becca to put some concealer on it. She has a bottle that matches my skin tone.”

Steve leaned in for a closer inspection. “That looks like it needs a lot of concealer. And what do you mean she has a bottle that matches your skin tone? Why would she have one on hand?”

Bucky laughed. “She has one for me because she used to practice applying makeup on me when I was in high school. Actually, she and her best friend, Martha, would practice on me.”

Steve laughed. “Okay, why and how did they manage to get you to be their guinea pig?”

“Money. Twenty dollars every time they wanted to work on a technique.”

“Any pictures of you wearing makeup?”

“Nope. That was my only stipulation. I wasn’t that naive. They tortured me when I was much younger. Dressed me up like a doll. Then I got smart and started demanding to be paid. It started with candy and food, then it moved into money once they started doing part-time jobs when they were old enough to work.”

Steve tried imagining Becca applying makeup onto Bucky’s face. “I bet you looked pretty,” Steve said, trying not to smile too widely at the image in his head.

Bucky shrugged. “I guess. They always did a nice job on the eye makeup. I couldn’t complain about that. Martha was really good at it. She’s working as a makeup artist for film and TV productions in New York now. She wanted Becca to join her but Becs wants to stay here for now. She loves working with Mom.”

“Would she take over the diner if Winnie decides to retire?”

“Mom is gonna keep working until the day she dies. But she’s never said she wanted Becca to continue running the diner. She’s going to let Becs decide for herself if she wants to continue running it after Mom dies. Becs wanted to be a dancer.”

“Ballet?”

“No, modern dance. She started in ballet when she was six. But she got a taste of everything. She focused on modern dance when she turned twelve. It was the dance style she loved the most.”

“You didn’t want to dance?”

“I’d be more comfortable dancing at a nightclub. So, no, I liked my camera more. But I did watch her practice in the living room or out in the backyard. A lot of times I would go with her to her classes and just watch or read a book or do homework. All the girls in class liked me, including the teacher. They thought I was cute.”

“They’re not wrong. And that would explain why I see movement in your images; your exposure to dance even though you haven’t danced yourself.” Steve paused. “If she wanted to be a dancer, why isn’t she pursuing that now?”

“A knee injury she got from playing soccer was bad enough that the doctor said she couldn’t pursue dancing as a career option anymore. She was depressed about it for a long time. She was 17 and ready to make a run at trying out for the company’s apprenticeship program. Everyone at the company was pretty sad about it. They told Mom that Becs would have gotten in without a problem.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She’s made peace with it. They asked her if she thought about becoming a teacher. She was also showing signs of becoming a really good choreographer. And she was interested in that area. But she said she wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to be a dance teacher. At the time, everything just hurt too much for her to think about finding a way to stay in that world.”

“But she’s happier now?”

“Yeah, she is. She loves the diner. But I don’t know if she really wants to continue with it. Mom is the diner. We’re not sure what will happen when Mom does go. I’m leaning towards closing it down and selling the building. Becs doesn’t know. That place has been her life. I think she has to decide if there’s something else out there beyond the diner.”

A comfortable silence descended upon the two men as they sipped their coffee and finished off the remaining fruit. Steve loved that their knees and shoulders touched while the hammock slowly rocked. Bucky lightly brushed his fingers over Steve’s hand before taking his hand and intertwining the fingers. Steve gently squeezed his hand, putting his coffee mug on the floor.

He gazed at Bucky’s profile. His eyes were closed as he bit into another strawberry. The blueberries were the first to be eaten, leaving the red berries and the pineapple chunks to finally have their moment.

Steve rolled onto his shoulder to kiss him. Tasting strawberries, pineapple, and coffee on Bucky’s lips and in his mouth, he groaned. After a minute, he leaned back to take Bucky’s coffee mug and empty bowl and set them on the floor. Lying back in the hammock, Bucky rolled into his arms to continue slowly kissing him.

Steve would fight anyone who said this wasn’t Nirvana. 

“I think we better get you back home,” Steve commented, breathlessly a few minutes later.

“Do we have to?” Bucky asked. “I kinda like being here in this hammock with you.”

“Aren’t they expecting you back home?”

“They know I’m with you.”

“But I don’t want to push the limits of your mother’s good graces. She may like me but you’re her only son.”

“Weak argument at best, Steve. I just want to stay here with you for the day. Take me back home in time for dinner,” Bucky bargained.

Steve sighed. “You’re making this hard for me… Fine, I’ll drive you back in time for dinner.”

“Yes!” Bucky shouted, raising his hands in the air like he had won the lottery.

Looking at his smiling face, Steve wanted to draw him again. But this time, he wanted his lover to pose in front of him instead of having to rely on memory and desire.

“I know you want me to draw you, but I was wondering… How would you like to model for me until you go back to Chicago? I have to start building a body of work for a show so why not use you as the model.”

Bucky stared at him for a moment. “Really?”

“I’m serious, Buck. You’ll be paid for your time plus a little extra for gas. This is a strictly professional arrangement. I promise no shenanigans while we work together.”

Bucky laughed. “You sound so fucking serious. Of course, I’d love to model for you even though I might have no fucking clue what I’m going to do during a session. But I will have my shit together by the time we start doing this. And I will keep my hands to myself. I’m not that much of a horn dog that I can’t be professional.”

Steve chuckled, relieved that Bucky was more than willing and excited about the prospect of working together. “I can work around your schedule at the diner. I don’t want what we’re doing to interfere with any prior commitments.”

“Mom and Becca will understand once I tell them I’m making extra money on the side. It’ll help during the academic year for film, darkroom supplies, and any travel I might have to do.”

Bucky reached out to run his fingers over Steve’s beard, relishing in the way that it felt against his skin. He looked contemplative.

“You said I inspired you,” said Bucky. “And now I’m going to model for you. Does that make me your muse?”

“You are my muse, Buck. I’m back to drawing and painting because of you. Maybe that sounds like I’m putting a lot on your shoulders by saying that, but I’m not. You sparked something in me to make me start creating again. I am forever grateful to you for that.”

Bucky smiled softly at Steve. “Do you mind if I ask you a question? It’s kind of personal. You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”

“You can ask me anything,” he reassured. “I want you to know that. Ask me your question.”

Bucky chewed his lower lip. “Have you ever slept with your art models? I know the past is that — the past. But I’m curious.”

“I’ve been tempted,” he answered. “But never enough to cross the line. It would blur everything too much for me and for them. It complicates a professional relationship. It’s not productive.”

“Did any of the models you hired want to go beyond the model/artist relationship?”

“Yes, and I told them ‘no.’ A couple of them were persistent until I warned them that if they continued to pursue that avenue, they would never work with me again.”

“Did that work? Did they listen to you?”

“It worked on most of them. The others I stopped working with altogether. They were disrespectful to me and to themselves. I warned other artists so they at least knew what they could possibly be getting themselves into if they were thinking about hiring these particular models. Their behaviour tarnishes what good art models do and I won’t stand for it.”

Steve had an inkling of where this conversation was headed.

“Okay, since I’m going to model for you, does your stance against mixing business with pleasure still apply with us?” Bucky asked.

“It… it doesn’t,” Steve replied. “Our relationship started first.”

“You hesitated on your answer, though.”

“I’ve never been down this road before, Buck. Like I said, mixing business and pleasure was always a hard ‘no’ for me. You’re the only one I would and have broken that hard ’no’ for. I really want to give this a try. This is new for me as much as it’s new for you. I just don’t want to fuck it up and turn this into something you’ll regret later.”

Bucky took his right hand and kissed the knuckles. “I’m not judging you or calling you out on your change of stance. As long as no one gets hurt in the process, sometimes rules need to be broken in order to follow your heart. I just want to know that you’re clear on what you want.”

“I want you, Buck. I want to get to know you. I want to know who I am with you in my life. I know what I was before I met you. And I don’t want that anymore. I feel like I’m waking up for the first time with you.”

Bucky blushed, then kissed him. “I want the same thing, too.” Steve noticed a peculiar expression on his face. It was an expression that reminded him of someone who just came up with a brilliant idea.

“Is there something you wanted to say or ask?” Steve asked.

“I have a question, and I don’t know how to ask this but here goes… Would you mind if I took your picture? It’s actually like a portrait… or several portraits. I’d love to photograph you. Aside from my thesis, I’ve been putting together a portrait series of people I’ve met and find interesting. I have a list of people I’ve been working through. I’d like to include you in the series.”

Steve found Bucky’s question endearing. It probably had everything to do with the fact he was smitten with him. Steve had fielded requests from individuals who wanted to photograph him when he was making a name for himself in New York. But unless it was for a legitimate publication, he wasn’t interested.

“You find me interesting?” Steve asked with amusement.

“Obviously,” Bucky replied. “I know you don’t like having your likeness out there for public consumption but since it’s for a personal project, I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind. I haven’t decided if I want to relate this project with my thesis but I’ll figure it out later.”

“I would be honored to be part of your project, Buck,” smiled Steve.

Bucky’s eyes lit up. “That’s great! Thank you so much for agreeing to do this.”

“You know if you ever need a sounding board for the project or the thesis, I wouldn’t mind being that for you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Call or text me and we’ll chat.”

“It would be nice to talk to someone outside of the academic system.”

“Would your professors or advisor mind if we talked about your work? I can’t imagine they would have a problem but I don’t want to step on anybody’s toes.”

“I’ll just mention it, see what their reaction is and take it from there. Honestly, if they’re going to advise against it, I’m going to ignore them.”

Steve shook his head. “Then what's the point of telling them if you’re not going to listen to them?”

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe I’m just a little shit.”

“That you are.”

“So, what should we do for the rest of the day before I go back home?”

“Whatever you want. If you want a tour of the property, we could go for a walk. If you just want to lie here all day and talk or read something from my bookshelf, you’re more than welcome to do that, too.”

Bucky snuggled up to him, snaking his hand into his sweatpants, and latching his mouth onto his neck. 

“Okay, that’s another option,” Steve gasped, feeling himself grow hard under Bucky’s touch. “I guess we’re not going for a walk,” he groaned.

• • • • •

Driving back to Bucky’s home, Steve could see Bucky fiddling with his henley out of the corner of his eye. He could see the hickeys peeking out from under the shirt, taunting him. For a second, Steve worried what Winnie would think about the markings.

“I know you’re looking at me,” Bucky commented. “What’s up?”

“Okay, one – how did you know I was looking at you? My eyes are on the road. Two – I can see the hickeys from here. They’re in my peripheral vision.”

Bucky chuckled. “Mom’s not going to have a heart attack over them. She knows what they are.”

“Are you saying you’ve gone home with hickeys before?”

“I might have,” Bucky admitted. “The only warning I got was to be careful. She was never one for long-winded lectures whenever Becca and I got into hijinks.”

“I bet you were a handful as a child.”

“Mom would agree that Becca and I were troublemakers when we were kids,” Bucky smiled. “I remember some of the shit we got into. I’m amazed she never put us over her knees to spank us.”

The part of Steve’s mind that was hopelessly horny for Bucky perked up at the word ‘spank.’ He quickly pushed it away as he cleared his throat.

“Well, I have a sense of self-preservation and I’m not keen on you mother giving me the evil eye for those bruises.”

“You weren’t choking me, therefore she won’t skin you alive.”

“How comforting,” Steve said dryly.

Three houses away from Bucky’s home, Steve noticed Becca and Winnie sitting on the porch. Slowing down, Steve parked in front of the house, with the two women watching. He glanced at them to see Becca smirking at them, and Winnie casually drinking what looked like iced tea.

“I’ll bet you twenty bucks that they’re going to tease me,” Bucky said.

“Not taking the bet because I know I’m going to lose,” Steve replied. 

“I have a confession to make.”

“Oh?”

“They thought I was going to return home from our date last night.”

“But now you’re back twenty-four hours later?”

“Right.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “I’ll walk you to the porch and run.”

“Nope, you’re sticking with me. Not getting teased by myself. In for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying goes.”

“Fine, I guess we’re both in shit. Ready to face the music?”

“Yeah, maybe it won’t be too bad.”

“Until they see the hickeys I decorated you with.”

“Shh.”

“And you said you wouldn’t get into shit for it,” Steve smirked.

Climbing out of the SUV, both men walked up the porch steps as the women watched with amusement.

“Hey, Becca. Hi, Mrs. Barnes,” Steve greeted.

“Why so formal Steve?” Winnie asked. “You always call me Winnie. That doesn’t change just because you’re seeing my boy.”

“I know. I just would like to say I’m sorry for not bringing Bucky home last night. It was unintentional; it just turned out that way.”

Becca snickered. 

“What?” Bucky asked, looking at his sister.

She waved her finger, pointing to the area on her neck that mirrored the location of his hickeys. “Would you like me to cover up those hickeys for you before you go to the diner on Monday? I’m gonna have to use the whole bottle for that.”

“No, it does not need the whole bottle,” Bucky replied evenly. “There’s nothing a shirt collar couldn’t hide.”

Winnie burst out laughing. Becca snickered again. Steve, who had been feeling nervous about this moment, was relieved that they weren’t ruffled by the evidence of last night’s activities. In fact, it didn’t bother them at all. He had a feeling Winnie would leave it alone but he wasn’t so sure what Becca was going to do or say. 

From what Bucky had told him, Becca wouldn’t be mad or anything of the sort. She wasn’t that kind of person but he knew this kind of information, whether it be on a sibling or a close friend, was a gold mine for endless teasing. He knew if Sam or Nat learned about Bucky, they would be happy for him but would affectionately tease him to no end. He wanted to see what sibling teasing looked like and he had a front row seat to it.

He glanced at Bucky who looked back at him. 

“I told you Mom wouldn’t give you the evil eye,” Bucky said with a shrug.

“Good lord, I would never give you the evil eye, Steve,” Winnie chimed in. “I’m happy to see that he went out on a date with you.” 

“You are?” both men asked at the same time.

“I am,” she confirmed. “I’m not trying to get you married off, son. That would be silly. You do whatever you want as long as it makes you happy. But I’m tossing in my two pennies right now and say that out of anybody who would be a good partner for you, Steve would be it.”

Bucky thought for a second. “How do you know that he would make a good partner, Mom? Have you had long conversations with Steve that I should know about?”

“Well, you two have enough in common to have a sleepover. That’s a good start,” Becca teased with a smile.

Winnie smiled as she shook her head. “As I was saying, Bucky has never brought anyone to the house or talked about anyone before. I realize I make him sound like he’s some sort of wallflower or old man when he’s actually 24 years old. Sure, we all know you, but this is a big deal.”

Steve understood what Winnie was saying and it made him feel special that he was the one Bucky invited into his childhood home. It meant a lot to him. He turned to look at Bucky whose cheeks had turned pink.

“So, what have you two been doing for the last twenty-four hours?” Becca asked innocently.

Steve didn’t fail to notice Bucky’s ears were also turning very pink.

“I made dinner and he made dessert,” Steve replied. “I gave him a tour of my home studio. He got to see some of my art that the public hasn’t seen yet.”

Then he pointed to Bucky’s portfolio. “I also talked him into letting me see his portfolio.”

“What do you think?” Winnie asked.

“I’m impressed. And I’m not saying that because we’re dating. I’m saying that as a visual artist. His visual language is great and he has a strong photographic eye. He’s very promising. He’s only going to get better.”

Winnie smiled like the proud mother she was. “I’m so happy to hear that. He got that eye from his father.”

“Yes, he talked about him,” Steve replied. “I only regret that I never had the chance to meet him. From what Bucky has told me, he was a good man.”

“He was indeed a good man,” said Winnie. “He would still be running the diner with me. He loved chatting with people. He would have loved meeting you. I think the two of you would have gotten along very well.”

“Speaking of the diner,” Bucky started. “I wanted to let you two know that I’m going to be occasionally working with Steve over the summer.”

“Oh? Doing what?” Winnie asked.

“Bucky agreed to be an art model for me,” Steve answered. “I’m planning to create a new body of artwork that I can put together for a show.”

“That sounds great,” Winnie said, delighted to hear the news. “When and where will the show take place?”

“That hasn’t been nailed down. I’m not going to discuss venues with my agent until I have most of the pieces done.”

Steve caught Becca smirking at Bucky while he stuck out his tongue at her. He noticed that Winnie knew what the two were doing and continued to ignore them, choosing to keep the conversation moving forward.

“I think it’s wonderful that Bucky is picking up extra money for his final year at the school. You are paying him, correct?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Winnie,” Steve replied reassuringly. “We’ll work around his schedule at the diner. I don’t want to put the diner in an awkward staffing situation.”

“Oh. Don’t worry about that,” said Winnie. “I can pass his hours off to one of the part-timers. Whatever you do, it won’t be a problem. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude,” Steve replied. “I made off with Bucky for a whole day so maybe it should just be family time for the three of you.”

“That’s absolute garbage,” Becca stated. “We can have family time whenever we want and it doesn’t have to be exclusively the three of us. Mom made braised short ribs and I roasted the vegetables for tonight’s dinner. It’s done and warming in the oven until we dig in. There’s plenty and always a place for you at the table.”

Steve’s mouth watered at the idea of braised short ribs. He’d be a liar if he said he could walk away from Winnie’s cooking that easily.

“Who am I fooling?” he said. “I can’t refuse any of her cooking.”

• • • • •

Bucky walked Steve out to his vehicle after an evening of Winnie’s cooking and conversation.

“Thanks for staying for dinner.”

“No problem. I really should know better than to try and turn down a dinner invitation from your mother. The short ribs were so good. Any time she invites me to stay for dinner, I’m accepting immediately.”

Bucky chuckled. “Your appetite rules you, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll admit my appetite for food — among other appetites — speaks loudly to me.”

“The conversation wasn’t too awkward for you at any point, was it?”

“No, it was pretty tame, and I suspect, normal topics discussed around the dinner table. No politics unless one is into that sort of discussion. Just food and life in general. And to be honest, if they really didn’t like me, the questions would have been much worse.”

Steve enjoyed the chats he had with Becca and Winnie. It was the first time since he started going to the diner that he had a chance to engage in conversations that went beyond the usual diner banter. They were both very smart and bright women and he understood why Bucky, underneath his boyish charm, was so thoughtful and seemed mature beyond his years.

They arrived at Steve’s vehicle. Bucky grinned at him. “Maybe we should quickly talk about when you wanted me to start modeling for you,” he said.

“Yes, we should,” Steve agreed. “Are you free this Wednesday?”

“You’re in luck; I am! What time should I come over?”

“Any time after ten is good. You don’t need to rush to get there.”

“Sounds good to me. Maybe we should set up a regular schedule so I can let Mom and Becca know what the rest of the summer will look like.”

“That’s a good idea. We’ll figure something out on Wednesday. There is one thing we should discuss before I leave.”

“What’s that?”

“Your modeling fee,” Steve replied. “Do you have a rate in mind?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “I finally got a hold of my friend, the one who does art modeling for extra cash. And she says her rate is $25 per hour so I think I’ll go with that.”

“Yeah,that sounds about right,” Steve confirmed. “But I’m going to pay you $50 per hour.”

He watched Bucky’s eyes almost pop out of his head. 

“That’s a lot of extra cash for Chicago,” Bucky commented. “Are you serious?”

“I am.”

“Wait, what would the average length of these sessions be?”

Steve thought for a moment. “I’m thinking four hours with breaks.”

“Okay, but don’t you think that rate is a little too high for someone with my lack of experience?”

“Yes and no. I’m paying for your time. I’m also looking at your value as a model. That’s important to me right now. Modeling for the first time will probably feel awkward but I know you’ll get the feel for the artist/model dynamic. For some people, money is a good incentive to help smooth over the initial awkwardness. Are you uncomfortable with the idea of me paying you because we’re seeing each other?”

“No, it’s not that.” He paused for a second. “Well, maybe.”

“Do you feel like a gold digger or a sugar baby because of who I am?”

“Absolutely not. I have never thought of myself that way with you… But the sugar baby label is hilarious but it is better than gold digger, I have to admit.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s not every day a famous but reclusive artist considers me his muse and wants to do figure studies of me. To be honest, money has never been a motivator for me. It’s a means to an end. If I could forego money to get to the end, I’d do it. You’re Steve Rogers, the artist. But you’re also Steve Rogers, the guy I find undeniably irresistible. And that’s why I want to model for you. But I’m still wrapping my head around everything that involves you because it’s a bit surreal.”

“Oh, good. For a minute there, I thought it might have something to do with the fact we’ve become lovers.”

Bucky grinned. “I like that description of us — lovers.” He said the last word with reverence. Bucky’s level of regard for their relationship touched Steve deeply.

He cupped Bucky’s face with his thumb lightly stroking his cheekbone. “I like that description, too. I think what we have here is more than just dating. I won’t disagree with you about all of this feeling surreal because I feel the same way, too. You are my muse. But let’s look at this as a partnership. Maybe it won’t feel so surreal if we both look at it that way.”

“Partnership.” Bucky seemed to mull over the word. “Yeah, I can do that. I love collaborating with people. That I can wrap my head around until it doesn’t feel surreal anymore.”

“Good. We’re partners. And we are absolutely in this together.”

“Partners,” Bucky grinned.

“So you’re fine with the fee I’m proposing? Think of the darkroom and photography supplies you could buy with the extra money.”

Bucky sighed, smiled, and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine with it. I have no idea if I’m gonna give you your money’s worth, but I’ll try.”

Steve kissed him. “You’re worth every penny. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”


	7. First time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky becomes an art model for Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy Monday, folks. Here's the next instalment :) Again, Middi and I thank you for the interest and support for this fic. Love you guys! :)
> 
> The next chapter will be posted Wednesday :) 
> 
> Enjoy!!!

Walking up the steps leading to Steve’s front door, Bucky was full of nervous excitement and anticipation. He wore his most comfortable pair of draw-string sweatpants and an old t-shirt, making sure that the clothes wouldn’t leave any marks or indentations on his skin.

He wasn’t sure if Steve cared about that because it was something he could overlook when he was drawing, but he wanted to be prepared. Based on his own previous experiences working with nude models, Bucky knew marks left behind by elastic waist bands or tight clothing were undesirable in photographic images and time was lost because the marks had to fade away before the session could begin.

He also brought along a small gym bag that carried his wallet, a bathrobe, a clean pair of underwear — because he wasn’t wearing any at the moment — and a pair of jeans to wear after the session was over.

Quickly knocking on the door three times, he waited. The sound of Steve moving hastily over the wood flooring could be heard. The door opened to reveal the man in bare feet, wearing faded jeans and a dark blue sleeveless t-shirt. His hair was a little on the wild side, reminding him of bedhead.

“Hi. Did I wake you up?” Bucky asked.

“Hi. What do you mean?” Steve asked, looking puzzled. He gestured for Bucky to walk into the house.

Bucky waved his hand over his own head. “I mean your hair looks like it’s taken on a life of its own.”

Steve ran his fingers through his hair, finally understanding what Bucky was talking about. Smiling sheepishly, he shrugged his shoulders.

“No, I wasn’t sleeping. I was outside for a couple of hours, working on the garden box, putting together the drip irrigation system. I was crawling around and digging up shit, trying not to disturb what was growing already. And I never bothered to check in the mirror after I finished.”

Bucky smiled. “I kinda like the wild man look. So, the drip irrigation is ready?”

“Yep, it’s working right now,” Steve replied, looking very pleased with himself. “Would you like to see?”

“I would love to.”

Walking through the double doors next to the kitchen, Bucky followed Steve into the backyard. He quickly surveyed the area. And to be honest, he wasn’t sure ‘backyard’ was the appropriate description. It looked more like a neatly mowed meadow. The area was similar in size to his mother’s backyard. There was enough room to handle a variety of outdoor activities, but not so much space that it was too onerous for one person to maintain.

Bucky turned his attention to the garden box which was several feet from the house. It was similar in size to his mother’s garden boxes. The only difference was that it was shorter in length by a third. He inspected the hoses and the set-up. 

“Looks exactly like the way Mom’s system is set up,” Bucky observed. 

“Thanks. Watering the garden is one less thing to do,” said Steve. “If this works, I might build another garden box next year and consider building a root cellar.”

“You’re going to be officially living off the grid if you keep this up.”

“If I can take vegetables off my grocery shopping list, I’ll consider it a win. Let’s go back inside and get started.”

• • • • •

“Head into the studio. I’ll be there in a minute. Would you like some water?” Steve asked, heading towards the kitchen. “I’m going to bring a pitcher. The studio is a little warm, even with the windows open.” 

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks,” Bucky replied as he turned down the hall.

Entering the studio, it was indeed warm. He noticed one of the windows was open. A gentle breeze was blowing in, helping to circulate the air in the space. The breeze brought in the alluring and comforting scent of nature. Putting his gym bag on the floor, he paused to look at the trees, shrubs, and wild grass and flowers thriving on the property.

“Like what you see?”

Bucky turned around to see Steve placing the water pitcher and two glasses on the wooden table.

“I do,” he replied. “The scenery is very nice. There’s something to be said for not living in a town or a city.”

Grabbing his bag, Bucky noticed there wasn’t a dressing screen for him to stand behind and remove his clothes. But this was Steve’s home so he probably didn’t think to have one.

“Am I the first model that’s been here?”

“Yeah, it was never my intention to bring models here. But then I really wasn’t in the mindset to actually do any drawing or painting here when I included this room in the house plans. It was a ‘you never know’ thought. It was an oversized reading room most of the time.”

“When you lived in New York, did you have a studio?”

“I did. My apartment was too small, and even if I had the room and wanted to paint in my apartment, it wouldn’t be with a model. It’s my private space. I didn’t want someone I didn’t consider a friend walking into that space.”

Bucky understood the sentiment. “Well, thank you for allowing me into your private space.” 

“You’re more than welcome,” Steve smiled.

“Do you mind if I just change here?” 

“No, go ahead or if you’d rather change in the bathroom, that’s fine too.”

“I’ll just change here. You’ve seen me naked already. No startling revelations here.”

Steve laughed. “I would beg to differ.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes as he undressed and pulled his bathrobe out of the bag.

Tucking his clothes into the bag, Bucky took the glass of water Steve offered him. A slice of lemon mingling with the ice cubes brightened and flavored the water.

“How do you want to start? Is there something I should do specifically?” Bucky asked.

“I’m going to start warming up my wrists and hands by doing some quick sketches of you. This will be a good introduction to posing for you, as well.”

“Okay, what do I need to do?”

“How this works is I’m going to set a timer to beep every thirty seconds. When it first beeps, you go into pose; doesn’t matter what it is because I have to draw whatever you give me. When it beeps again, get out of the pose, rest and think about what you want to do for the next pose so when it beeps again you just move into the new pose. We’ll do this for five minutes.”

“I’m guessing the thirty second rest is going to fly by pretty quick.”

“It can. You only have to come up with five poses.”

Bucky grimaced internally. “Right. Five poses.”

“Don’t worry about how goofy or mundane you think a pose is,” Steve reassured. “There’s value in every pose you give me.”

“You’re right,” Bucky admitted. “I just have to get out of my head.”

“It’s alright to be nervous, but I’m here for you. If you’re unsure about something, ask.”

Bucky nodded. “So, what happens after the five minutes are done? We move onto longer periods of time?”

“Yeah, we’ll move up to one minute, then two minutes; then five- and ten-minute stretches with breaks as you need them. That’s how I warm up. After a couple of ten-minute sketches, we’ll break and then move to fifteen- and twenty-minute pockets of time.”

Bucky liked the methodical progression. This was something he could acclimate to easily. 

“What’s the longest you’ve asked a model to hold a pose?”

Steve thought for a moment as he placed his drawing paper on the easel. “Twenty minutes, for sure. I try not to go beyond that. It depends on the background if I’m including it in the drawing. As you know, most of my work, if not all of it, has been focused on the human body with a prop or two, and a window and nothing more.”

“Your art consists of one human figure. If you were drawing two people, it would take longer, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, it probably would. I haven’t gotten around to drawing two figures. It certainly has its appeal but it’s not on my radar at the moment.” Steve pulled out his phone from his back pocket. “I’m going to play some music. I’m not big on drawing in silence. It can be deafening at times. Is there anything specific you’d like to listen to?”

“I like all kinds of music,” Bucky replied. “But I’m partial to singer/songwriters, Americana and blues. What about you? What kind of music do you like listening to?”

“I like all kinds of music, too. But I love listening to contemporary classical music.”

“Interesting.” Bucky looked at the burgundy canvas drop cloth lying on the floor. Part of it was also draped over several wooden crates. “Any particular composers you’re listening to a lot? Is this where I should be?” he asked, gesturing to the drop cloth.

Steve looked up from his phone. “Yeah, where you are is perfect.” He tapped his phone and the sound of string instruments poured out into the studio. “Ludovico Einaudi, Philip Glass and Michael Nyman have been popping up lately. It also depends on what my brain responds to. Right now, my brain is responding to them.”

“Is there a pose you’d like me to start with?”

“Nothing in particular,” Steve replied, setting the timer option on his watch. “Surprise me.”

“Surprise you?” Bucky gave him a skeptical look.

“Sure, why not? I’ll give you a minute before we start?”

“Yeah, if you could, please. I just need to think.” 

Bucky pondered his options. He had done some research, looking at figure studies in photography and in other mediums. He attempted to remember the poses that interested him as a photographer. Settling on a couple of poses to begin with, Bucky disrobed, nodded at Steve, crouched down and moved into the position of a runner ready to sprint down a track.

• • • • •

Steve started the timer, grabbed the charcoal and quickly moved it over a corner section of the large pad of paper. Thirty seconds arrived and the timer sounded off. 

“Time’s up,” Steve announced.

Bucky stood up. “Seriously? Fuck, that flew by.”

“You bet. Better think about your next pose and get ready. I’ll count you down when we have ten seconds left.”

Steve watched Bucky consider something and moved into another pose. He turned his back to Steve, dropped down to his knees and sat back on his heels with his arms draped over his head. Steve loved the lines Bucky was creating with that pose. Racing against the timer, he sketched out the basic shapes before adding what little details he could toss in before the timer went off again.

They repeated this exercise for another three minutes.

“Okay, let’s take a longer break before we start the one-minute exercises,” Steve suggested. “How did that feel for you?”

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Bucky replied, pulling on his bathrobe. “I’m still a little worried about not coming up with something for you to draw.”

Steve smiled fondly at him, refilling the glasses with water. “Don’t worry about it. What you’ve given me were pretty dynamic poses and some beautiful lines to draw. Throw in some static poses if you like. Mix it up. And any objects you see in the studio, you’re more than welcome to use as a prop in your pose.” 

He watched Bucky drink his glass of water as he surveyed the studio. Steve could see the wheels churning in his mind. Bucky turned to look at Steve.

“I’m ready,” he announced. “Let’s go again. Hold the pose for a minute, right?”

“That’s right,” Steve replied, as he picked up the charcoal again.

• • • • •

By the time they moved into the five-minute rounds, Steve noticed a kind of energy and rhythm had emerged between the two of them. It warmed Steve to see Bucky trying his best to be the ideal art model. 

Quite frankly, Bucky had exceeded his expectations. He wasn’t expecting Bucky to take to it like a duck to water, but he had been more than pleasantly surprised by a good chunk of the poses Bucky offered Steve. He had already filled several sheets of paper with sketches of Bucky.

Drawing filled Steve with a kind of contentment and peace that only creating art could bring him. Getting the opportunity to draw Bucky was just an added bonus. Becoming familiar with Bucky’s body as an artist was quite different than becoming familiar with it as a lover. It was something that piqued his interest and thrilled him. He knew the touch and feel of Bucky’s skin and the contours of his body. Translating and transferring that information onto something two dimensional, like paper, was an interesting but pleasing endeavour.

After completing three rounds of five-minute sketches, they stopped to take a break. They went to the kitchen to refill the glass pitcher and snack on fruit and peanut butter toast.

“How does it feel to be working with a live model after being away from it for five years?” Bucky asked between bites of toast.

“It feels pretty good,” Steve replied easily. “I had forgotten how much I enjoyed working with one.”

“Did you have conversations with your models while you drew?”

“Not really. Not while I was drawing. That’s one of the reasons I play music and I always ask the model what kind of music they like to listen to while we work. We talked during breaks or if I needed them to change something in their pose. I never touched them unless I felt I had to but I always asked permission first.”

“Did you miss drawing when you first stopped?”

“No. Actually, I didn’t look at any of my work for a whole year,” Steve answered honestly. “It was just the head space I was in at the time.”

• • • • •

Bucky wanted to ask Steve why he disappeared from the art world, but he wasn’t sure if Steve was willing to talk about it. He wasn’t sure himself if he was ready to have that conversation with Steve. 

There hadn’t been much written about Steve suddenly becoming a ghost of sorts. He wondered if that was a product of a society with a short attention span that was constantly chasing after the next so-called flavor of the month, or if it was by design to quietly slip away from the spotlight. 

“Something’s on your mind,” Steve observed. “Care to share?”

“It’s just something we can talk about later,” he replied. “It isn’t something that needs to be addressed right now. Would it be alright if I could see your sketches?”

“Yeah, absolutely. If you’re good, let’s go back and I’ll show you the sketches.”

Bucky marvelled at the sight of himself drawn in charcoal. He wasn’t someone who liked looking at themselves in photographs. He always thought he looked like a dork. He thought he smiled too big and he couldn’t stop making stupid faces at the camera. He knew he was attempting to sabotage the picture and his friends seemed to ignore those attempts and took the pictures anyway. He always cringed whenever anybody wanted to take a picture of him. There was a reason he preferred to be behind the lens instead of being in front of it. 

But with the drawings, it was different. 

“What do you think?” Steve asked.

Bucky looked through the sketches, noting how the charcoal, under Steve’s guidance, must have danced over the paper. The lines were smooth and confident. There were scant touches of shading Steve managed to put into the one-minute sketches and much more in the two- and five-minute ones.

“They’re great,” Bucky replied. “I know they’re warm up sketches but I love them. I love how you see me.”

Steve wrapped his arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. “It’s just you I see, Buck. I drew you like I drew all the models before you.”

Bucky stared at the sketches for another minute. “This is what I look like to you?”

“Yes.”

“I look… amazing. I wasn’t sure about a couple of the poses given your sightline. It’s weird seeing myself like this. I mean I can actually take a good look at my backside. You don’t see that much in a mirror.”

Steve laughed. “The human body is beautiful in all its shapes and sizes. You’re beautiful. I don’t know why you seem so surprised by that. I’m really lucky to be drawing you.”

Bucky’s skin started to crackle with energy and he wondered if he was blushing. He wasn’t sure if he could handle hearing any more of Steve’s words.

“Are you okay?”

Bucky rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just not used to all your compliments.”

“Am I embarrassing you?” Steve smiled softly.

“Maybe. I think I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by your sketches and praise.”

“Should I stop?”

“No, don’t stop. I’ll get used to it because I’m pretty sure you’re not going to stop complimenting me.”

“If I can get you to blush, I’m not stopping, because you’re pretty adorable when you blush.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and smiled. “Okay, now you can stop.” He fished out the paper used for the five-minute sketches and showed it to Steve. “If you can draw this in five minutes, what can you do in fifteen or twenty minutes?”

“I can do a lot,” Steve stated. “Wanna find out?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Just one second. Let me go find something for you.”

Bucky watched as Steve grabbed something that resembled a giant jelly roll cake lying on top of several cardboard boxes and plastic milk crates. Bound by three separate bungee cords, Steve carried the roll over to Bucky, placed it on top of the backdrop, and removed the cords. They watched it unfurl into a mattress.

“Is that a memory foam mattress?”

“It certainly is,” Steve grinned. “Best thing to nap on in the middle of the afternoon.”

“That good?”

“Yep. If you’re not careful, you’ll be out like a light in less than five minutes.”

“Why is it here? Am I supposed to take a nap? I’m not that tired,” Bucky said.

“No, but you might fall asleep since I’d like you to lie down on it and give me something to draw,” replied Steve, grabbing a couple of cushions sitting on the armchair. “I haven’t drawn you yet in a reclining position.”

Bucky arched an eyebrow at him. “Be lewd or be nice?” he asked mischievously.

“Nice would be preferable,” Steve smiled. “Lewd would be too distracting.”

Bucky shrugged. “Just wondering if you were going to let your guard down. That’s all.”

“Not this time, Buck.”

“So you’re saying there will be an opportunity where I can seduce you while you’re working,” he said with a smirk.

“Perhaps, but not right now. I’ll give you a couple of minutes for you to come up with something before we go for fifteen minutes.”

Once Bucky decided on what he wanted to do, he disrobed and made himself comfortable on the mattress. As soon as he was on his back, he understood why Steve said he would be asleep within minutes. His body sank into the mattress as it molded itself to the contours of his body.

“Holy shit,” he muttered.

He heard Steve chuckle.

“Will you be able to stay awake for the next fifteen minutes?” Steve asked.

“Yes. Just talk to me. Engage me in something, maybe?”

“Keep the wheels spinning?”

“Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind.” Bucky couldn’t believe how quickly his body wanted to go boneless and move into a state of unconsciousness. Sitting up he tried to recall what he had wanted to do before his back hit the mattress. It didn’t take long to remember.

Lining up three cushions in a row, he treated them as if they were a body pillow and hugged them, looking like he was about to doze off.

“Are you sure you’re going to stay awake?” Steve chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, I like the lines you’re creating. But I think the likelihood of you falling asleep is greater in that position.”

“Shush, I’m committing to it,” he replied. “Are we gonna start? Or are you going to argue with me?”

Steve chuckled again. “We’ll start and we’ll chat for the next fifteen minutes so you can stay awake.”

For the first minute, Bucky heard the charcoal move over the paper. Steve was humming to himself. He couldn’t quite figure out what song he was humming. It sounded like a tune from the ’40s.

“Why aren’t you talking to me and what are you humming? It sounds familiar but I can’t place it right now.”

“Oh, sorry. It’s a song my Ma would hum around the kitchen when Pa was alive,” Steve replied. “It’s called _It’s Been a Long, Long Time_ by Harry James and I think the singer was Helen Forrestt. It was his favorite song. Actually, it was also their wedding song.”

“It sounds like he was a bit of an old soul,” Bucky remarked.

“I guess he was in a way, but honestly, that was the only oldie I would hear. Everything else was jazz, blues, and folk. Sometimes Ma would still hum it after he died, whenever she was feeling sentimental.”

“Like on special occasions and holidays?”

“Yeah, especially over Christmas and on their wedding anniversary.”

“Was she always sad during those times?”

“She was at first which is only natural but it got easier to bear. I like to think she and Pa are somewhere having fun and dancing.”

“They liked to dance?”

“They did. Ma would get me to dance with her when Pa was away on a mission.”

“Do you like to dance?”

“I do. But I only dance by myself when no one is looking. I might actually look like a complete moron.”

Bucky smiled at the image Steve put into his head. “You’re not that bad of a dancer, are you?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve gotten mixed reviews.”

“I think we should dance sometime so I can decide for myself.”

Steve chuckled. “Maybe.”

Bucky smiled. “How’s it going with your sketch? How long has it been?” He wanted to move his right arm, realizing too late it was falling asleep.

“We’re more than halfway there. It’s going really good. And you?”

“Good. But I think my right arm is falling asleep.”

“Are you uncomfortable? Do we need to stop so you can reposition?”

Bucky could hear the concern in Steve’s voice. It touched him that Steve was so attentive with him. “I don’t want to ruin what you have. I’ll be fine for another five minutes.”

“Alright, but as soon as the timer goes, roll onto your back and we’ll get the blood flowing again.”

“Okay… do you have that song on your phone?”

“Which song?”

“The one you were humming. I want to hear it, if that’s okay. I know I’ve heard it before but I’d like to listen to the lyrics.”

Steve smiled at him and found the song on his phone and played it. Bucky noticed Steve had refrained from singing along. He surmised he did it so Bucky could hear it without his embellishments. As he listened he could imagine Steve’s parents dancing together and maybe a very young Steve watching. Then he imagined what would be like to dance with Steve to that song. He felt mildly silly for indulging in that fantasy, but he couldn’t help himself, his mind just went there. He thought about how it would feel to have Steve holding him close as they danced cheek to cheek. 

Lost in his daydreams, Bucky hadn’t noticed the song had ended. He also hadn’t noticed when the timer on Steve’s watch went off. It wasn’t until Steve knelt down beside him to grab his attention that Bucky looked at him and he furrowed his brow.

“The fifteen minutes are up?” he asked.

“Yeah, you zoned out. Are you feeling alright?”

“I just got lost thinking about stuff. Nothing important or serious. This mattress is dangerous, though.”

Steve smiled. “I warned you. Wanna roll onto your back so we can get the blood circulating in your arm again?”

Rolling onto his back, Steve covered him with his robe and began running his hands over his arm. The massage felt good and Bucky enjoyed having Steve touch him and take care of him. 

To be someone’s muse, to be in this scenario and be perfectly happy to be the object of someone’s artistic desires and motivations was new to Bucky. He had always been in the driver’s seat as the artist. Being on the other side was enlightening and he found himself liking it a lot. But he knew he would only do this for Steve.

Steve looked into his eyes and softly smiled. “Why are you looking at me?”

“Because you’re hot. I know I’m not supposed to say that since we’re being professionals right now. But I just wanted to say it.”

“It’s alright if you’re just saying it and not acting on it. We can keep going once the tingling stops. You want to keep going?”

Bucky sat up. “I do. Can I confess something?”

“You know you can say whatever is on your mind.”

“I know. I just wanted to say I’m enjoying doing this with you. You’re a big reason why this experience hasn’t been difficult. If you hadn’t noticed, I like pushing myself. This is out of my comfort zone and I don’t mind doing it. With you, I feel safe enough to try new things and you don’t judge me. It’s really freeing.”

Steve rubbed his hands over his thighs, looking suddenly embarrassed and shy. He glanced down for a moment before meeting Bucky’s gaze again.

“I’m happy you trust me enough to want to do this,” Steve acknowledged. “It means a lot to me.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m always going to trust you.”

“That’s a bold statement to make since we only had one date, technically speaking.”

Bucky chuckled. “We’ve had sex on more than one occasion and I’m here in the studio as your model and muse. I think that shows we have ample amounts of trust in each other.”

“You’re being generous, but I’ll let you have the point,” Steve smiled.

Bucky briefly reflected on how he captured his images. He remembered seeing images that would inspire him to approach one of his subjects in a similar fashion but still make it uniquely his own.

“When you draw, do you only work with live models or do you also work from photographs or reference images?” Bucky asked.

“Mostly live models, but when I have time constraints or a live model isn’t essential, I’ll use photographs,” Steve answered. “I enjoy working with both, but if I can work with a live model, I will.”

Bucky understood. It was one of the reasons he enjoyed photographing people. He enjoyed the interaction. He also believed in collaboration between subject and artist. Depending on the project, two brains were always better than one. He took a drink of water.

“Would you ever work from a photograph of me?” he asked.

“Sure, but who would be taking your photos?” Steve asked. “Are you going to do them with a self-timer?”

“I could, but that wouldn’t be fun. I was thinking you would. Would you be game for that?”

“I thought you didn’t like having your picture taken. You said you always pulled faces whenever you spotted a camera pointed in your direction.”

“Did I pull a face while you were drawing me?”

“No, but I wasn’t exactly focused on your face; and that wasn’t an attempt at flirting, by the way.”

“Understood,” Bucky smiled. “So, would you photograph me if I gave you my camera?”

“I might,” Steve hedged. “First, let’s deal with having my portrait taken before we discuss me trying my hand behind the lens.”

“Fair enough. Do you have an idea when you want to have your portrait taken?”

“What does your schedule look like next week? Mine is pretty flexible.”

“Maybe we could do Wednesday again.”

“Yeah, that would work. Do you have anything in mind for the portrait?”

“No, I’ll probably just wing-it.”

Steve chuckled. “Confident, are we? Is this method specific to me or do you do this with all your subjects?”

“Yes and no. If it’s a controlled space that I’m familiar with, I’ll rough out a plan before I meet with the subject. If I’m not familiar with the space or it’s an uncontrolled space, I’ll give myself five minutes to come up with a rough plan when I’m on-site.”

“Well, I’ll give you all the time you need to come up with a plan,” Steve offered. “You’re welcome to use any room in the house for the shoot. Plus I’ll be game for any ideas you might come up with for the session no matter how crazy or mundane it might be.”

“Nothing is ever mundane with me,” Bucky smirked. “But seriously, are you really up for — quote, unquote — crazy?” 

He hadn’t seen Steve do anything that could be considered remotely crazy. He was practical, thoughtful, kind, and occasionally dorky and awkward. Crazy wasn’t the first adjective he would use to describe Steve.

“Why not? Do you think I’m boring?” Steve winked.

“Fuck no. You’re far from boring,” he replied. “But you don’t exactly strike me as the reckless type, doing wild shit. Confident, yes. Reckless, no. I’d like you to have fun when we do this next week.”

“With you behind the camera, I’m sure it’ll be fun. Would you like me clothed or unclothed?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him, his interest piqued at the possibility that Steve would be willing to have his picture taken in nothing else but his birthday suit. 

“Clothed for the project because I’m greedy and would like your naked form all to myself. But it’s your call if you want me to photograph your naked ass. I won’t tell you one way or the other.”

Steve grinned mischievously. Bucky had a feeling next week was going to be interesting.

“Okay, do you wanna do two or three more poses and then we’ll call it a day?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, I do. Just let me find a pose that won’t entice me into falling asleep.”


	8. In front of the lens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve goes in front of the camera for Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! We're halfway through the story, folks. I might sound like a broken record but honestly, thanks for your interest in this fic. And I'm going to keep saying that right up to the final chapter. Enjoy!
> 
> Next chapter goes up this Friday :)

Steve had been up since seven, excited for Bucky to be under his roof again. He went for a run as soon as he woke up to work off the nervous energy that had been there since the night before. 

In the past week, he had dropped by the diner a couple of times just to chat with Bucky and have a helping of Winnie’s cooking. He noticed when he went to pay his bill that Winnie continued passing along goodie bags through Becca who explained that her mom wanted his opinion on some baking experiments she was working on for the diner’s menu.

The first experiment — three delicious red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese filling and vanilla frosting — were divine. And he had yet to get back to Winnie regarding the half-dozen breakfast cookies he received on his last visit. He ate two after his run, leaving two left which he planned to share with Bucky.

After a quick shower, Steve pulled on a burgundy sleeveless t-shirt and faded jeans, and went through the house to tidy up and make the place look reasonably presentable for whatever Bucky had in mind for a setting. 

He had to admit to himself that he was a bit nervous about being in front of the camera even though it would be Bucky standing behind it. Like Bucky, he never much cared to be in front of the camera but he would never go as far as making faces to sabotage the picture. He usually grinned and hoped for the best. But he knew he could be playful with and for Bucky. He assumed Bucky only needed one good image of him for the project and everything else would just be experimental, fun nonsense.

He was in the studio trying to make it look less chaotic when he heard Bucky arrive and the car door open and slam shut. Bounding to the door, Steve opened it before Bucky could raise his hand to knock. He smiled brightly at Steve, quickly giving him a once over.

“Good morning, Buck,” Steve smiled, taking a step forward to kiss him on the cheek.

“Someone is full of energy today,” Bucky noted. “You also smell really good.”

“I had a run this morning and took a quick shower after.” Steve noticed the camera bag as Bucky entered his home. “Is that everything? No lighting equipment?” 

“I’m not that organized nor do I have the funds to outfit myself with studio lights,” Bucky replied. “But I do have a portable ring light and stand in a bag that’s sitting in the trunk. I’ll bring it in if I need it. One day, when I have extra cash, I’ll invest in a couple of lights, umbrellas and filters. But honestly, they’re near the bottom of my wishlist, so I’m not too concerned about that. I make do with available light and a little ingenuity. Have you ever used studio lights or any lights when you were drawing your models?”

“I usually worked with models during the day. I never drew in the evenings.” Steve walked with Bucky towards the kitchen.

“Any particular reason?”

“None. It was how I worked. Paint and draw during daylight and I had the evenings to myself to wind down and do whatever. Also, people always wanted me to attend some function or whatever so it just made sense to have an elastic nine-to-five schedule with a lot of leeway to add in things like appointments and unexpected stuff. Have you had breakfast?”

“I did. Coffee and a day-old Boston cream doughnut.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“What? Don’t tell me you never did that when you were going to university.”

“Coffee and a muffin.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and smiled. “Same difference. A muffin can have more calories than a doughnut. Not that you look unhealthy, of course. I’m just making a point.”

“More like you’re being a little shit, Buck. Here, have a cookie,” Steve said, handing over one of Winnie’s breakfast cookies.

“What’s that? Is that one of mom’s experiments?”

“Yes, it’s a breakfast cookie. It’s really good.”

“You’ve become her guinea pig, haven’t you? It’s official.” Bucky said, looking somewhat surprised but not really surprised at all. He still hadn’t taken the proffered cookie.

“Your mother moves fast,” Steve shrugged. “What can I say aside from ‘Take the cookie, Buck’?”

Bucky took the cookie and bit into it. “Wow, this is good. And better than the doughnut.”

“Would you ever doubt your mother’s experiments? Did you want something to wash that down?”

“Well, there’s always a first time for everything. Maybe something won’t turn out the way she wants it. What do you have on hand?”

“I doubt that’s going to happen. I have orange juice, cranberry juice or water. I could make some coffee. I haven’t had my first cup yet.”

“I could go for another coffee. I had the instant shit because I woke up a little late and had to rush here. Hence the day-old doughnut.”

Steve merely smiled as he filled the kettle with water and poured coffee beans into the grinder. “You can start photographing me anytime you like?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t we make this shoot interesting?”

“In what way?” Bucky was clearly interested in the way Steve had delivered his suggestion.

“I was thinking maybe do environmental portraits plus me just doing stuff.”

“Just doing stuff,” Bucky deadpanned, sounding mildly confused. “A little clarification, please.”

“I mean let’s have some fun,” Steve attempted to explain. “Do the portrait you want for your project and let’s have a little fun for the rest of the time.”

“Wait, you want to spend a couple of hours in front of the camera?”

“Sure, this may be the one and only time you get me in front of the camera for that length of time.”

Bucky laughed. “You’re fucking hilarious and possibly a little crazy. You’re willing to do that? You’re surprising me.”

“Nice to know I’m keeping you on your toes. And yes, I’m willing to put myself out there. For you.”

Bucky stopped laughing as his cheeks colored with pink. He spent several seconds staring at Steve before he spoke. “Alright, let’s do it,” he said. “We’ll be out of our comfort zones together.”

• • • • • 

Bucky had been excited all week over the opportunity to photograph Steve. He ran scenarios in his mind on how the session would go. Naturally, he indulged in the fantasy of no matter how the session went, he and Steve would somehow end up in bed naked, sweaty and messy. But outside of that self-indulgent fantasy, Bucky had been going over his list of people whose portraits he had taken and his list of those whose portraits he had yet to take. He even spent some time indulging in what Steve would wear for the portrait. He wasn’t surprised Steve would greet him looking so casual and annoyingly hot at the same time. The sleeveless t-shirt showing off his muscular arms was unfairly distracting.

“Do you have an idea where you want to start?” Steve asked.

“Where do I want to start? You mean location? It doesn’t matter to me where we start, but why don’t I start by taking shots of you here in the kitchen making coffee? I have to take a light measurement and take it from there.”

“Okay, I’ll hold off on making the coffee until you’re set up and ready.”

Bucky knew Steve was watching him take his camera out of his bag. It was a smaller, modified single-lens reflex digital camera. 

“Where’s your film camera?” Steve wondered.

Bucky pulled out another camera from the bag. It was a Nikon FM2 with a 50mm lens. “It’s right here. I’m planning on using both. I have a dozen rolls of 36-exposure black and white film.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “You’re going to use all of them?”

“I don’t think so but you never know. I always like to have extra on hand in case I underestimated how much I was planning to use.”

“Are you designating the film for the project?”

“Yes, I’m setting aside a roll for that. The rest will be for the images I think I want exclusively in black and white.”

“How do you decide that?”

Bucky shrugged. “Gut instinct. I’ll see something and decide it has to be in black and white because color doesn’t do it justice. For example, I believe the human body looks better in black and white. You see composition, contrasts between light and dark, and texture better in black and white. Color can be distracting unless you know how to minimize that distraction or use it to your advantage.”

“But with digital files, you could always change the color image to black and white or there's a setting where you could choose to shoot in black and white right from the start, if the camera has it,” Steve countered.

Bucky smiled. “This is why I like talking to you. You always throw in options or ‘what-ifs’ and it doesn’t sound like you’re just pulling something out of your ass just because you want to be contrary or a shit disturber.”

Steve grinned. “I appreciate that you enjoy our conversations,” he said. “Most people think I’m trying to be an asshole.”

“They’re misreading you,” Bucky said as he put his film camera back in the bag.

“You’re saying I’m misunderstood?”

Bucky turned the power on the digital camera and looked through the viewfinder screen. “Maybe. It might be more a case of underestimating you. They know you have a brain but they’re hung up on your looks. Pretty boys can’t possibly be that smart or something like that.”

Steve looked amused and smiled adoringly at him. “You think I’m a pretty boy?”

“Well, you are. Do you not see that when you look in the mirror every morning?” 

Raising the camera to his face, Bucky began taking pictures of him. Steve gave him a curious expression. “Is that a mirrorless camera?”

“It is.”

“Ah, I see. I never saw one up close before. Anyway, I understand when compared to what society considers handsome or beautiful, I tick off a lot of boxes for some folks. But this is my face,” Steve said, waving his hand around his head. “This is the only face I’ve ever had. This is me. I have no idea if I’m really a pretty boy. And by the way, I think I’m old enough not to be called a pretty boy anymore.” He tossed a coffee bean at Bucky for emphasis. The bean bounced off his head. Bucky laughed as he watched Steve turn his attention back to the water kettle and coffee press.

• • • • •

Bucky was discovering photographing Steve was easier than he thought. He was pleased with the images he got in the kitchen. Steve was smiling and looking very relaxed. He stayed that way as long as his hands were busy, Bucky soon discovered. 

After taking enough images in the kitchen and taking a big gulp of coffee, he and Steve migrated to the living room. Switching over to his film camera, Bucky assessed the light pouring in from the large windows with a light meter. He decided to photograph Steve in front of the bookshelves first. 

Steve leaned against the bookcase, his arms crossed in front of his chest in an attempt to look relaxed. Bucky had observed him long enough to know Steve was still feeling a bit awkward, not exactly knowing what to do with himself in a moment of stillness for the camera.

He took a few shots and paused. “Out of all the books on your shelves, which one is your favorite?” 

Steve thought for a moment, turned to scan the shelves, and pulled out a thick, colorful hardcover book. “It has to be this one on Mexican food and culture. The photography is gorgeous.” 

Bucky began photographing Steve as he opened the book and flipped through the pages.

“It starts with a historical component where it talks about Mexico in the pre-Columbian era then it moves chronologically to the present.”

As Steve continued to talk about the different sections of the book, highlighting his favorite chapters, Bucky continued to photograph him. This was the Steve he knew and wanted people to see.

“Am I talking your ear off?” Steve asked, closing the book and tucking it back on the shelf. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“No, you didn’t talk my ear off, Steve,” Bucky replied. “I actually like listening to you talk about things that excite you or make you happy. To be honest, I like the sound of your voice. Especially when it’s the first thing I hear when I wake up.”

Steve chuckled. “You know sweet-talking me doesn’t work.”

“That’s because I don’t have to sweet-talk you into anything. All I do is give you puppy dog eyes and you’ll do anything for me.”

Steve shook his head and sighed. “You’re a brat, even though that may be true. Where to next?”

“I love the photograph that Nat took of you. I’d like to get a few shots of you with it.”

“Okay, that would be a kind of a then-and-now comparison, wouldn’t it?” Steve mused, making his way over to the large vertical image.

“It would and that’s why I want to put you with your younger you.”

“Do you want me to do anything in particular?”

“Just talk about it,” Bucky suggested. “How did she talk you into doing this shot? You said she convinced you that it would be fun. Was it as simple as that?”

“Pretty much,” Steve replied. “It was more than a year after Ma died. I was still feeling numb. I had just dropped out of Columbia because I couldn’t concentrate anymore. Everything was white noise. Everything was gray. I just wanted to scream. I needed to feel something again.”

Bucky wanted to hug him. He understood the pain of losing a father but he couldn’t quite comprehend losing a mother as well. It was something he dreaded when it came to his own mother. He had no idea how he would handle losing Winnie.

“I could have taken drugs or drank myself under the table every night to get away from everything, but I’m not wired that way,” Steve continued. “I just wallowed in it. Sam and Nat were there trying to help me move through it. On the days they came over to visit and I didn’t feel like talking, they’d watch TV or work on their course assignments. Sam joked it was better than working in the university library; he said I had better food. But they were quiet and didn’t engage with me unless it was absolutely necessary or they had to go home. I really appreciated how they handled me.”

Throughout Steve’s confession, Bucky continued photographing him. The majority of the images were introspective and a bit somber. Even though Steve was frank about the time after his mother’s death, Bucky could still hear some of the pain in his voice. It had dulled over time but it was something that would never go away. Bucky thought he was doing a pretty good job living with it.

“So, was it during one of Nat’s visits that she came up with this idea?” Bucky asked.

“It was something she had already cooked up and told Sam about. He thought it would kickstart my way out of the haze I was in. This idea was the thing that helped me start living again.”

“Where was it taken?”

“In one of those five-star luxury hotel suites in Manhattan.”

“How did she snag one of those rooms?”

“I didn’t ask. She might have won a poker game against someone who had an all-access keycard to the place. Sam came along as her assistant. We were only there for a couple of hours and booted out of there once we were done.”

Bucky laughed. “You’re not saying you guys snuck in. There had to have been security cameras in the lobby and in the elevators.”

“I have no idea and I didn’t ask. No one gave us the side-eye although we were dressed respectably for a trio of twenty-somethings at the time.”

“I assume you had spare clothes after the shoot?”

“Had my gym bag with me and a plastic shopping bag to hold the wet clothes.”

Bucky grinned as he continued to listen to Steve talk about how they worked quickly to get the tub filled with water and the bubble bath that Nat had stashed in her camera bag. Bucky couldn’t stop laughing when he heard Sam almost fell into the tub with Steve and how disappointed Nat was that it didn’t happen. It was good to see Steve brighten up as he recounted the story. It was also good to hear how much Nat and Sam were there for Steve during that time and hoped that maybe one day he would get a chance to meet them. 

Bucky couldn’t believe how many good images he felt he had captured. He wouldn’t know for sure until he processed the film and made contact sheets but he was certain he had the makings of a personal gold mine.

“Well, I got plenty of images to choose from,” Bucky noted. “We can move to a different location. Was there a spot you thought would be interesting to use a backdrop?”

Steve thought for a moment. “How about the hammock or the veranda?”

Bucky became excited about incorporating the hammock into the shots. “Yeah, that would be interesting to work with,” he grinned.

• • • • •

Grabbing a book on the way out onto the veranda, Steve walked over to the hammock and dropped himself into the hammock. The air was warming up quickly with the mid-morning sun, promising to be a hot day. He looked up at Bucky who was evaluating the scene before him. He smiled fondly, watching Bucky walk around him, searching for possible angles and interesting perspectives to photograph him from. He walked down the steps towards him, raising the camera to his face. 

Steve took that as a cue to ignore him and read his book. It was a memoir by American photographer Sally Mann. He was a couple of chapters into the book but had neglected it since meeting Bucky. Opening the page he had bookmarked with a slip of paper, Steve attempted to read. He fought hard to keep his eyes on the book page but he could feel Bucky moving around. It was unreasonably distracting.

Finally, he gave up and closed his eyes. The last time he was in the hammock Bucky was with him, and the memories were vivid and visceral. He remembered Bucky’s hands roaming all over his body. He remembered the hickeys Bucky gave him in return for the ones he had left on his neck. The slow and leisurely pace Bucky took stroking his cock was achingly delicious and torturous. Bucky had kept it that way until Steve begged him to go down on him so he could come into his mouth. Once his throbbing cock was engulfed by the slick heat of Bucky’s mouth, it didn’t take long for Steve to come. 

Steve opened his eyes, listening for any movement from Bucky. Slowly, he scanned the veranda. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bucky grinning at him from the other side of the veranda railing. He slowly turned his head in the younger man’s direction. He smiled back at Bucky.

“Are you done? Did you get what you wanted?” Steve asked.

“Yes, I did. This was more experimental than anything else because of the angles and where you’re positioned but I think I got a handful of interesting images. Since we’re outdoors is there another area on the property that might yield some interesting images?”

Steve rolled out of the hammock, leaving the book on top of the crate beside it to join Bucky. “Behind the house, I have a couple of sheds for firewood.”

“Really? How come I didn’t see them when we were looking at the raised garden bed?”

“That’s because they’re located on the other side, where the section of trees are closer to the house. You haven’t been there yet. I’ll show you.”

• • • • •

After a short jaunt to the other side of the house, Bucky caught sight of the two wood sheds, a tire lying on its side on top of a tree stump and a small tractor. 

“And here we are,” Steve announced.

“You’re not going to go all cliché mountain man on me, are you?”

Steve smiled mischievously. Bucky wondered what kind of fun he was planning.

“Why not? Gotta do the cheesy shit when you can and get that out of the way. At least you’ll know if it worked or not.”

Bucky laughed. “Okay, I’ll play along but whatever images come out of this scenario will not be up for consideration for the project or anybody’s eyes except yours and mine.”

“To be honest, if they became part of your personal collection of spank bank images, I’d be honored.”

Bucky’s cheeks warmed. “If I did have a… collection, your images would be the only ones in it.”

Steve smirked. Bucky girded himself, knowing Steve was going to have fun and put on a show for him.

“Before we start, could I take a look at the sheds?” Bucky asked. “I’m kinda curious.”

“Absolutely, take a look.”

Walking around the sheds, each one was neatly stacked with fire wood. One shed was stacked to the top with wood. The other was not quite full. He noticed a pile of uncut logs lying next to the tree stump and tire.

“Why do you have two sheds?”

“One full shed will heat the home for the Winter. I supplement with electricity. So I cut that wood to your left last year. I like to season it for a year and it’ll be ready to use this Winter. The other shed has wood I’ve cut this year. I’ll cut more in the Fall. Usually, I don’t cut wood during the summer months because it gets hot real quick and there’s always a chance of heat stroke if you’re not careful. That pile over there is from a tree that fell over. It was dry by the time I found it so I figured I’d get it cut. No rain this week so I’ll make good work of it.”

“And the tractor is for pulling trees back here?”

“Yeah, there are a few small clearings which I use to collect the trees I’ve cut down or find already down. I made a path wide enough for the tractor, and I use it to bring them back.”

Bucky was impressed at Steve’s self-sufficiency. “Who would have thought a kid from New York would be living off the grid in Indiana.”

“I’m not quite living off the grid. I still pay taxes. I’d need to build a root cellar, set up another raised garden box and consider solar panels for electricity to even come close to living off the grid. But I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for solar panels. Plus, I need the internet and that’s definitely one thing I can’t really cut myself off from. But just living simple and uncomplicated works for me.”

“What variety of trees grow on the property? Will there be a time where you can’t cut anymore down because you’ll be thinning out too many trees and creating an imbalance on the ecosystem here?”

“I have mainly maple, oak and ash on the land. They’re all good for burning or lumber,” Steve replied, walking over to the splitting block. “To answer your second question, when I bought the property, the trees were basically untouched. You’d be surprised how thick it can get in there. I had a forester drop by and he went over with me what to look for when I’m harvesting trees for firewood. We spent the afternoon walking through the property and he gave me an introduction to identifying which trees were low value, which were dying and which ones to leave alone because they’re considered high value and worth money to me if someone wanted to cut a few down for lumber. The trees are healthy and robust. I don’t think I’ll be able to make a big enough dent to alter the ecosystem here.”

Bucky walked over to Steve who was at the tree stump with the tire. Looking at it, he pushed the tire to see if it would move. It didn’t. Slinging his camera over his shoulder, Bucky peered into it to see why it was immobile. He discovered it was bolted into the stump with three screws and washers. He looked at Steve with a questioning look.

“The tire keeps the logs upright when I cut them and keeps them from flying all over the place. It’s a good buffer and helps me keep better control of the axe.”

“That’s pretty smart.”

Steve shrugged. “I found out about the tire thing on the internet. I’ll split a few logs for you before it gets too hot.”

Bucky quickly began photographing Steve as he packed four logs into the tire. Grabbing the axe lying on the ground next to the stump, Steve began splitting them. He moved efficiently removing the split logs and placing more in the tire to be cut. After five minutes, Steve had worked up a substantial sweat which resulted in him removing his t-shirt. His torso glistened in the sunlight. Bucky bit his lower lip as he photographed him; Steve was absolutely mouth-watering. As the shutter on the camera continued to sound off, Bucky pushed the hungry thought to the back of his mind.

“Okay, I think I have plenty of images to choose from,” Bucky called out. He didn’t want Steve to work any longer under the heat of the sun. “Let’s head back inside.”

• • • • •

Back in the kitchen, Steve peeked over his glass of water to watch Bucky drink his own. To be more precise, he was staring at his throat as he gulped down the cold water. An idea popped into his head, making him grin.

Bucky looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. 

“What’s with the smile?”

“Would you like to add a few more photos to your personal collection?”

“Again, you’re assuming I have a collection… What do you have in mind this time?”

“You know what the bathroom looks like.”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you take some shots of me taking a shower?”

• • • • •

Bucky couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was excited and worried at the same time. He thought the hot sun had gotten to him. “Why do I feel like this is turning into erotica photography?”

“Are you saying ‘no’?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“I’m just a little surprised you’re daring to go there. You didn’t seem to be the type.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “What does that mean?”

“I didn’t think you were an exhibitionist?”

“Ha ha. Did you think I was some sort of prude?”

“Hell, no. Not with the way you fuck me. No. You’re just… full of surprises, I guess. You didn’t strike me as someone willing to do something as potentially provocative as taking a shower in front of the camera. Everybody perceives you as someone who is extremely private.

“Don’t forget that my artwork revolves around the human body.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t necessarily mean figure studies automatically equate with sex. Your artwork isn’t inherently sexual. Your drawings of me aren’t sexual in nature. I’m just not wearing any clothes. That’s all.”

Bucky saw the amusement on Steve’s face. The man was clearly enjoying the conversation. 

“True,” said Steve. “Maybe I just need to be around the right person to open up a bit.”

Bucky shook his head and smiled. “I’m flattered.”

“It doesn’t mean I’m going to turn into an extrovert all of sudden.”

“I know. I don’t want you to be someone you aren’t. I like you the way you are.”

“And I like you the way you are, Buck. I like that you’re growing artistically; I like that you’re hungry to learn. I like how you approach life. You make me want to be a better version of myself.”

Bucky’s throat tightened, feeling a little overwhelmed. He never expected anyone to say those words to him. He didn’t think he could affect Steve the way Steve affected him.

Steve looked concerned. “I didn’t mean to make you speechless or uncomfortable. I was being honest.”

“I know you were being honest… when it comes to relationships, honesty usually leads to the end of the relationship for me.”

“Who was usually being the honest one?”

“The other person, as in they were always the ones to break it off.”

Bucky felt suddenly vulnerable admitting that tidbit about himself. Steve walked up to him and took his hands into his, his thumbs gently stroking the knuckles. “Their loss. My gain,” Steve stated.

“You’re awfully kind to say that.”

“I’m not being kind; I’m being honest. I see you, Buck. And I think you’re amazing.”

“Okay, now you’re making me blush.”

“You’re cute when you blush.”

“Okay, now stop,” Bucky laughed.

“I’ll stop if you’re game to take pictures of me in the shower,” Steve countered.

“I swear you’re a closet exhibitionist.”

“Are you telling me you don’t want this opportunity?”

“Of course, I do. I’m not an idiot. You don’t have to sell me on the idea. I know it would be intriguing, at the very least.”

• • • • •

Bucky walked into the ensuite bathroom with Steve following close behind. He assessed the natural light illuminating the room and the space he had to work with. Setting up a stand for a small ring light which he grabbed from his car, Bucky asked Steve to undress.

“Do you want me to do anything in particular?”

“If you mean jerk off, no,” Bucky laughed. “Just shower like you would normally do. If there’s an angle I want to catch and need to spend more time capturing, I’ll let you know.”

Behind the camera, Bucky watched Steve step under the showerhead. The rivulets of water splashed and traveled down his body. Steve tilted his head towards the showerhead, enjoying the steady drumming of water massaging his face. Grabbing a bottle of body wash gel, Steve turned to face Bucky. He squeezed some of the gel into the palm of his hand, lathering up before running his soapy hands over his body. 

It struck Bucky a couple of minutes later, after taking a number of images, how seductive this whole situation was becoming. Not that he was unaware or ignorant of how his body was reacting in this setting, but he had a job to do and he was going to do it no matter how uncomfortable his jeans were becoming. 

He wondered if Steve had ever experienced something similar when he was working with a flesh and blood human being standing ten feet away from him. It was a conversation he would like to have with him eventually.

Re-focusing his efforts to ignore the twitching in his pants, Bucky took a deep breath and looked through the camera lens again. Finding the shutter speed to be a little too slow for his liking, Bucky adjusted the brightness of the ring light. Steve continued to casually rinse the soap from his body. Bucky opted to move in closer, wanting a tighter torso shot. Steve looked right into the camera. His expression was one of comfort and ease. But his eyes were beguiling with a touch of tease. Bucky found himself wanting to capture that look and rattled off several frames before the moment washed away with the water.

“Got what you want?” Steve asked.

“I think so. You can shut off the water any time and dry off.”

Bucky stepped away from the shower door to continue photographing Steve as he dried himself and wrapped the towel around his waist. 

After taking the images he needed, Bucky turned off the ring light.

“You can leave the light and stand here if you don’t need it anymore,” Steve suggested. “We can head over to the studio now. You can pack all this up after we’re done.”

Bucky had no qualms with that idea. He didn’t need the light for the studio.

Steve pulled on a pair of old sweatpants that were cut off at the knees and a clean t-shirt, and they headed into the studio. Once there, Steve looked over some of his unfinished drawings of Bucky. Selecting one, he placed it on the easel and began refining some of the details. 

“Do you want any of your works-in-progress to be photographed?” Bucky asked. He wasn’t sure if Steve wanted any of what he was working on to be revealed.

Steve thought for a second. “They’re drawings of you so it’s your call.”

Bucky considered what it would mean to have his likeness inserted into a photograph of Steve. He wasn’t sure if there would be a negative reaction to it but also, it would be revealing a part of his personal life as well as Steve’s and he was never one to advertise or flaunt his relationships. 

“I’ll take some shots but I’ll be putting them in the ‘personal’ file,” Bucky stated.

He spent the next five to ten minutes photographing Steve from angles that wouldn’t reveal what he was working on. Everything in the studio was fluid and easy. As a photographic subject, Bucky found Steve to be accommodating and generous. He paused to photograph a more detailed shot of Steve’s hand as he worked to add definition and detail to Bucky’s torso.

After taking the last frame on his film roll, Bucky paused to remove it and replace it with a fresh roll. He realized he had burned through nine rolls already. He looked up at Steve who had stopped to watch him.

“If you’re wondering, I got what I needed if you wanted to stop,” Bucky commented. “You’ve given me a lot to look at once I develop the film and make contact sheets.”

“That’s great. Would you mind indulging me on something?”

“What would that be?” Bucky asked.

“Would you photograph me as if I was your model for a figure study assignment or a personal project to develop your eye for the human body?”

Bucky blinked. “Uh, sure. Why does this sound like you’re giving me an assignment?”

Steve shrugged. “I’d like to see how you see me.”

There was a beat of silence. “Are we having a moment of self-doubt?” Bucky asked. “I mean you look great.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s not about how I perceive my body. My parents get the credit for passing down their good genes. I know most people consider me physically good looking. But sometimes I wonder what people see once they get past my physical appearance.”

“That’s a layered question with an equally layered answer, I think.”

“It can be, but it doesn’t have to,” Steve countered. “I’m assuming the images you’ve taken so far have been under the category of portraits or something adjacent to that category.”

“Personally, the shower shots were a little more than portrait images. Most people wouldn't classify them as such.”

“Point taken, but I’m mainly curious to see what it’s like to be on the other side; to be the subject or object of someone else’s artistic eye.”

Bucky paused on those words for a moment. He did think it would be interesting and fun to do more than just to take a portrait, to actually have Steve be something more than his face. “I see your point and understand your curiosity. For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty empathetic towards your models. I’m only speaking for myself, though.”

Steve smiled. “That’s good to know. So, are you willing to take on the challenge?”

“Some would say that what I would be doing is worshipping you and your body.”

“Isn’t the nude an examination and celebration of our relationship to the human body… to our own bodies?”

Steve had a point.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “It is. And yes, I will take you up on your challenge.”

Steve grinned as he set aside his drawing. “Where would you like me?”

“Wherever you like.”

Steve walked over to where the drop cloth and crates were located. Lifting a section of the drop cloth off the floor, Steve placed a couple of yoga mats on the floor before covering them with the cloth.

“Sometimes, my knees bug me,” he said. “And no, it’s not because I’m old. I’m not old enough to feel old.”

Bucky smiled. “I wasn’t going to say anything. And I didn’t know you were into yoga.”

“I did it for a while after the house was built. I still do it on occasion but I use them more for meditation. You should try meditating. It’s good to be in touch with yourself.”

“How often do you meditate?”

“I did it every day for a year. I probably should do it more often but drawing and painting was my original form of meditation and since I’m back at it, I might meditate once a week now.”

Bucky quirked his mouth. “Are you going to do yoga poses for me?”

“Variations of some of the poses, I think. Just for fun. I just want to see what the poses look like from another person’s perspective.”

Bucky checked over his camera as Steve took off his clothes, turned on the music player on his phone, and moved onto the drop cloth. With his back to Bucky, he dropped down onto his knees and sitting back on his heels, Steve moved into his pose. 

Bucky was surprised by how graceful Steve moved and carried himself. He had to suppress a whine when he saw how flexible Steve actually was. His sexual excitement was quickly shoved to the back of his mind by his excitement as an artist when he saw the muscle definition and lines produced in Steve’s poses. Thoughts of photographing Steve using a single studio light to create high contrast images danced in his head. 

For that shoot, Bucky would have to photograph Steve after the sun had set and the drop cloth would have to hang on hooks to keep the background dark to near black. But of course, he had to see if Steve would agree to being in front of the camera a second time. He didn’t think it would be a problem with the images he was capturing but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.

After twenty minutes, Bucky checked to see how much film he left. One and a half rolls. Chewing on his lower lip, he knew he wanted to do something a little different with Steve and he wanted to use the remaining frames for what he had in mind.

“Let’s change gears and do something that popped into my head,” he said.

“Sure. What did you have in mind?” Steve stood up and grabbed his glass of water.

“Well, I’d like you to sit in the armchair. We can put the chair wherever you want,” Bucky said heading over to the piece of furniture.

“Any particular reason you want me to sit in it naked as a jaybird?” Steve asked, following Bucky.

“There was an image I saw a while back and I really liked it,“ Bucky explained. “It was striking. And I just want to see if I could put my own spin on it.”

Steve looked intrigued. “What was the model doing?”

“He was sitting in a leather chair looking out a window. I couldn’t tell if it was shot in one of those luxury hotel executive-type suites where the windows go from the floor to the ceiling or if it was an actual top floor executive office setting.”

“Let’s put the chair on top of the drop cloth,” Steve suggested as they both picked up the chair and walked it over to the windows. “My money is on a high-end hotel suite. I can’t imagine any six-figure executive allowing a nude model to be photographed in his office unless they wanted something salacious in return.”

“That’s gross and fucking sleezy. I’ll take a pass on that. I’d check the office for hidden cameras. I fucking hate that kind of behaviour.”

“But you know who could sweet talk anybody into giving up a room and not be compromised at the same time?”

Bucky knew there could be only one person Steve would bestow that compliment on. “Nat?”

“Bingo.”

“Why does she sound like she’s more than meets the eye?”

Placing down the chair, Steve tweaked the angle so it would partially face the windows.

“Because she is,” Steve replied. “I definitely need her to meet you. I think you two would get along like gangbusters. Also, I think she could mentor you if that’s something you’d like.”

“Why do you say that so casually like it’s nothing? To me, that’s definitely not nothing.”

“So, you’re saying if Nat agreed, you’d like her to mentor you?” Steve grinned.

“Well, fuck yeah, that’s my answer. Yes, I’d love to have her as a mentor. Okay, I’m going to walk around the studio and figure out some angles.”

• • • • •

Steve watched Bucky walk around the studio, surveying the space, deciding how he would like to photograph him. At the same time, Steve wondered if all he had to do was merely look out the window and look pensive. 

“Was the model doing anything in particular aside from looking out the window?” Steve asked as he stared at the chair’s proximity to the window and everything around it. “Was he brooding? Was he looking swarthy?”

Bucky laughed from the other end of the studio. “Swarthy? I haven’t heard that word since high school english class. That’s a word you find in those bodice-ripper type novels.”

Steve smiled. “You haven’t answered my question.” 

Bucky shrugged. “He just looked strong and silent.”

“Wow, that was helpful.”

“I’m not asking you to be swarthy. Just be you. I’ll make it work.” 

Steve shook his head and chuckled as he sat down in the chair. He had forgotten how good velvet felt against his skin. He ran his hands over the material, feeling the well-worn softness under the palms of his hands. 

Looking up, he watched Bucky continue walking around the studio.

• • • • •

Bucky knew Steve was watching and tracking his movements and he didn’t mind it at all. He was flattered by it. Yet he still couldn’t believe he was receiving such ardent looks from anyone. He never thought he was capable of holding anybody’s romantic and sexual interest for more than a night or two. But Steve was proving him wrong every time they were together.

“Steve, I’m going to start taking photographs,” he called out. “I’m going to start with overall and wide shots and work my way towards you.”

Steve sat back in the chair. “How much of me do you want to see? Should I lean forward so you can see my head or my face?”

From where Bucky stood, he liked that he saw only Steve’s right forearm and his lower parts of his calves and feet. “No, you’re fine. Don’t need your pretty mug for these shots. You’re fine like that.”

Steve snorted. “Pretty mug? I know you can describe me better than that. I’ll accept swarthy.”

Bucky laughed as he shot off several frames of Steve before moving to another spot in the studio. He loved the fact the size of the studio was giving him a lot of creative options to choose from. Every once in a while, he would give Steve a direction as he moved closer to him.

Eventually, he was in Steve’s peripheral vision. Steve dared to look at him. Bucky didn’t say anything to him as he continued to work. Steve rested his head on his left hand, never taking his eyes off Bucky. Through the viewfinder, Steve looked thoughtful yet challenging. He looked very much in his element despite the fact he was naked. 

To Bucky, Steve came across as someone who was self-aware. At this moment, he was self-possessed and self-assured. Those were the qualities Steve exhibited when they first met and spoke to each other. Those were the traits that pulled him into Steve’s orbit although he was pretty certain Steve would argue that it was, in fact, the other way around. 

Bucky realized they hadn’t said a word to each other for several minutes. Somehow the silence felt alright. Comfortable. There was communication in that silence. The communication coming from listening and watching each other’s movements. Bucky thought synchronicity might be the word to describe what was happening between them.

Eventually, he was a mere ten feet away from Steve. Taking his last frame from his last roll of film, he pulled the camera away from his face. Steve looked at him and smiled.


	9. Not done yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy times for the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday, folks. Let's kick off the weekend with a couple of horny boys going at it.
> 
> From me and Middi, thank you to everyone who has been following this fic. Your enthusiasm is so appreciated. If anyone is wondering when you'll get to see some art, I'm afraid it won't appear until Chapter 14. Sorry, but it'll be worth the wait. We promise.
> 
> The next chapter will go up Monday. Have a great weekend!

“Did you get the shots you needed?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Bucky knew he had plenty of images to choose from. He set his camera down beside its bag. “That’s a great armchair, by the way. It has lots of character… Just like its owner.”

“Thanks. It was my mother’s favorite chair.”

“What would she say if she knew you were sitting in it in your birthday suit?”

“I doubt she would have minded,” Steve replied. “According to her, when I was old enough to walk and climb, I’d run around naked and climb into this chair. She said I would do that anytime she tried to give me a bath. As soon as she removed my clothes, I took off. She would always find me in this chair. Apparently, I liked velvet.”

“I think you still do,” Bucky smirked.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t disagree,” Steve said, running his hands over the material.

“Also, did you not like taking baths? Because that’s my takeaway from this story.”

“I can’t be sure. I was too young to remember what my thought process was regarding bathing,” Steve smiled.

Bucky paused for a moment, thinking about how to ask his next question. “I know she passed away while you were in college. You never said specifically what happened to her. What did happen?”

“Well, I was into my second year of working on my Master’s degree,” Steve replied. “She was working as an emergency room nurse after moving from the pediatric ward a couple of months before. She had finished her shift and was getting ready to leave. She had put on her coat and was saying goodbye to her co-workers. Then she collapsed. She just died right in front of her friends and co-workers. Later, everyone learned she had had a brain aneurysm. Needless to say, that wasn’t the best time of my life.”

For a moment, Steve looked lost. Bucky thought the expression Steve wore must have been close to what his face looked like when he heard the terrible news. His heart ached and he felt bad for mentioning her. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. I shouldn’t have brought your mother up.” 

“Nah, it’s alright. I made peace with how she went. She would have kicked my ass if she thought I wasn’t moving on and living my life. I know I said this before but I know she would have loved meeting your mom and Becca. Our mothers would have been partners-in-crime.”

Bucky thought about it, their mothers giving their sons nothing but loving, maternal grief. “Yeah, that would have been nice. Good thing my mom knows you. I don’t have to go through the awkward ‘meet the parents’ introductions.”

“Yeah, we did dodge that bullet,” Steve agreed. “But having that unplanned dinner with your mom and Becca was interesting.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure what tone she was going to take with you but I’m glad she liked you before we met. Like I said before, she adores you so she really can’t come up with a reason to dislike you now.” 

Bucky noticed Steve still hadn’t gotten dressed. Without giving it much thought, he turned his attention back to packing his camera away. “Maybe you should get dressed since we’re done,” he suggested.

“Are we?”

Bucky paused at the teasing tone of Steve’s voice and wondered what he was up to. “Yeah, are you suggesting we’re not done?

“The photographic portion is done but we’re not done yet,” Steve said cryptically.

Bucky arched an eyebrow at the statement. “Could you clarify what you mean by that?”

“Bucky, come here, please.”

The tone in Steve’s voice had Bucky’s cock stirring with interest. All the libidinous thoughts he had shoved to the back of his mind surged to the forefront. Bucky walked towards Steve and stood before him. Steve’s eyes traveled up and down Bucky’s body. Then their gazes locked. Steve looked hungry, making Bucky’s body tingle as if he was actually touching him. Bucky swallowed thickly. His throat felt dry and in dire need of water. He licked his lips as his gaze dropped down to Steve’s cock. It was fattening up, looking juicy and begging for attention. Bucky’s mouth watered as he looked back into Steve’s eyes.

“What would you like to do?” Bucky rasped.

Steve reached out, placing his hands on Bucky’s hips, and hooked his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans. “I’m more interested in knowing what you want to do.” His voice was low and seductive.

Bucky blew out a breath. “Uh… I don’t know. There are a lot of things I want to do.”

“Would you like me to help you choose?”

Bucky hated that he could be so easily tongue-tied when Steve poured on the charm and seduction. “That would be helpful, yes.”

“Take off your shirt, please.”

As Bucky removed his t-shirt, he felt Steve’s hands move to the front of his jeans. One hand caressed his bulge, making it twitch under the touch. The other hand deftly undid the top button before tugging down the zipper. Bucky inhaled sharply. Hooking his fingers over the waist of Bucky’s jeans and underwear, Steve pulled them over Bucky’s ass. His cock bobbed free as Steve continued to push the jeans down his thighs until they pooled at his ankles. Placing his hands on Steve’s shoulders for balance, Bucky stepped out of his jeans, nudging them off to the side.

Steve curled his hand around Bucky’s cock and began stroking it. Bucky whined, he craved Steve’s touch. He could feel himself thickening with each stroke. Steve grinned up at him. 

“Feel good?” Steve asked.

“Fuck, yes.”

Steve swiped his thumb over the head, encouraging more pre-cum to ooze out of the slit. “I just want to taste you for a bit, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky breathed.

He gasped and closed his eyes as Steve’s hot mouth enveloped his cock. The slick heat and velvet tongue pressed up against the underside of the shaft shot sparks up his spine. Steve moaned around him. The vibrations were almost too much for Bucky to withstand. He swore under his breath. His hips thrusted reflexively into Steve’s mouth. Strong hands gripped his hips tight, gently pushing them back to where they originally were.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Steve pulled off. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

“Okay. Good.”

Steve chuckled. “Are you able to speak in full sentences?”

“No.”

Steve chuckled again before taking the entire length into his mouth. Bucky cried out, feeling the tip slide down Steve’s throat.

“Stop, please,” he begged.

Steve pulled back. “Too much?”

Bucky thought he was going to lose his shit. “Just intense. But good. I just don’t want to come too soon. Your mouth is amazing. I’m just… feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment.”

• • • • •

Steve smiled. Caressing Bucky’s thighs, he felt him tremble under his hands. Grabbing Bucky’s clothes, Steve piled them between his feet. He reached for Bucky’s hands, holding them gently in his grasp. 

“Could you kneel down, please?”

Bucky obeyed, slowly dropping to his knees, placing his hands on Steve’s thighs. Steve leaned forward to kiss him. With both hands cradling his lover’s face, Steve brushed his thumb over Bucky’s flushed pink lips. 

“You’re beautiful, Buck.”

The younger man dropped his eyes to the floor as splotches of dark pink appeared on his cheeks. Steve loved it when Bucky blushed. Hooking a finger under Bucky’s chin, Steve tilted his head up until their eyes met again.

“How are you feeling? You seemed a little shaky a minute ago.”

“Fine. Better. You’re a lot to take in.”

Steve laughed. “I never thought of myself that way.”

“But you are. You’re fucking amazing. This all still feels a little surreal for me.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, this still feels a little surreal for me, too.”

“But you’ve had more experience in relationships than me.”

“I wouldn’t say that much more. Honestly, entering a new relationship is always a little surreal at the beginning for everyone.”

“Not like how I feel about you.”

Steve paused. “How do you feel about me?”

Bucky licked his lips. “Do you mind if I show you?”

Steve couldn’t wait to see what he had in mind. “Go right ahead.”

Bucky leaned forward to capture his lips while pushing him back against the chair. Steve groaned and chuckled at Bucky’s sudden burst of energy. Steve tilted his head back exposing his throat. Bucky took the invitation to nibble and suck on the sensitive area. Steve felt a hand caress his thigh as it made its way towards his cock. His hands gripped the armchair. Fingers slipped underneath his balls, fondling them. His cock twitched even more as Bucky nibbled on a patch of skin sitting at the base of his neck. 

Steve became acutely aware of Bucky’s hand running the length of his cock. Breathing deeply, he fought to stifle the urge to come all over Bucky’s hand. Bucky gave as good as he got. His focus on Bucky’s hand was sharply interrupted by Bucky’s mouth sucking hard on his neck. He cried out at the sensation.

Bucky licked and kissed the reddening mark he left on Steve’s neck before leaning back to look at him. He grinned with a mischievous glint in his eyes, his hand still stroking Steve’s very stiff cock.

“That was a good move,” Steve panted. “I have to uncurl my toes if you don’t mind.”

“You inspired me,” Bucky smirked, moving in to kiss him again.

“As long as I’m inspiring you to pull these kinds of moves on me, I won’t complain,” Steve breathed.

Bucky hummed pleasantly before he began licking and kissing his way down Steve’s chest. Steve watched with rapt attention as Bucky slowly made his way down to his groin. Bucky looked up at him, smiled and licked his lips. With the tip of his tongue, he lightly lapped at the head, tasting the pre-cum already leaking out from the slit. 

Steve raked his fingers over the armchair. He wanted to touch Bucky but he didn’t want to direct Bucky on how to pleasure him. 

Bucky glanced at Steve’s fingers, ready to tear into the upholstery. “Do you need to do something with your hands?”

“Yeah, I’d like to touch you.”

“Then, touch me. I’m not stopping you.”

Being given permission, Steve gently touched Bucky’s face with reverence. Bucky turned to take Steve’s thumb into his mouth, suckling it. Steve groaned, shifting his weight in the chair. Involuntarily, he thrusted into Bucky’s hand who quickly but gently pushed down his hips to keep them still. He gazed into Bucky’s eyes, carding his fingers through his hair.

“If you have the urge to tug on my hair, don’t hesitate. I’m alright with it,” Bucky offered.

“You like having your hair pulled?” Steve asked, continuing to stroke Bucky’s hair.

“Sometimes I like a firm tug if my hair is long enough. It’s long enough now.”

Steve smiled as Bucky ran his tongue from the base of the shaft to the tip. He watched Bucky place a kiss on the head before taking it into his mouth. It sent shivers up his spine to see his cock disappear into Bucky’s mouth. He groaned at the extra pressure placed along the shaft as Bucky bobbed his head. The light, teasing flicks over the frenulum had Steve tightening his grip on Bucky’s hair. A slight tug had Bucky moaning, sending the vibrations reverberating through Steve’s body. 

Bucky continued with his oral ministrations until Steve had to speak out.

“Buck, I don’t want to come yet,” Steve whispered, gently running his fingers through his lover’s curly locks.

Bucky pulled off, lips and chin shiny with spit and pre-cum. He looked at Steve expectantly. “What do you want me to do now?”

“Sit in the chair,” Steve ordered. 

“Is the chair sturdy enough? It’s your mother’s chair, afterall.”

“Don’t worry, it can handle what we're going to do.”

Steve stood up, walked over to the table and fished something out of a tin container. It was a condom and a small bottle of lube. Bucky noticed and raised a curious eyebrow as he sat in the chair.

“Do you always have condoms stashed away in here?” he asked.

Steve had the decency to look a little shy. “No, I never had them in here. After the first time you spent the night here, I thought I would have some around the house, just in case—”

“Just in case you got lucky?” Bucky smirked.

“No,” Steve replied, tearing open the foil package. “In case, we wanted to fuck in here on the spur of the moment… or anywhere. I didn’t want to walk back to the bedroom to grab a little protection.”

Bucky laughed. “Your bedroom isn’t that far away. It’s just down the hall.”

“When you want to fuck the daylights out of the guy you’re seeing, it’s too far,” Steve muttered, rolling the condom over his dick.

Bucky chuckled. “I still say it’s not that far.”

“Shush,” Steve ordered, stroking himself as he took in the sight of the man all too ready to be fucked at the moment. “Do you want me inside you or not?”

“Shushing right now.” Bucky parted his legs, serving himself up for Steve’s appetite.

“I assume you’d like to be fingered?” 

“Always do,” Bucky replied with a sly smile.

Settling between Bucky’s legs, Steve smoothed his hands over his lover’s inner thighs. Bucky purred at the touch.

“Touch yourself,” Steve requested, brushing his thumb over Bucky’s perineum while another finger lightly rubbed the ring of muscle surrounding his hole. The touch was teasing, causing Bucky to sigh and squirm. He watched him stroke himself before kissing him, swallowing the high-pitched whine escaping his lover’s throat. He would never get tired of listening to Bucky react to his touch. Pulling away from Bucky’s lips, Steve squeezed some lube onto his fingers, warming it. Gently, he pressed a finger against the entrance until it yielded to the pressure. 

Steve watched pleasure wash over Bucky’s face the moment he breached the entrance. His lower lip had become puffy from being bitten. His eyes were beginning to glaze over. He was on his way to surrendering himself to Steve. And if that didn’t make Steve puff up his chest with some sort of caveman-like pride, knowing that he could give this to Bucky, nothing would.

Slowly moving his finger in and out of Bucky, Steve gazed wordlessly into Bucky’s eyes. He caressed Bucky’s cheek before sliding two fingers into his pliant mouth. He groaned, watching him suck greedily on his fingers. Bucky was hungry for everything Steve was offering him. His cock ached.

Steve pressed another finger inside Bucky as he slipped his fingers out of his mouth. His fingers brushed over his prostate, making Bucky gasp with surprise.

“Fuuuck,” Bucky groaned loudly.

“Are you alright?” Steve smirked.

“Oh, God,” he panted. “Do that again.”

Steve caressed the prostate again. Bucky sobbed, making him loosen his grip around his cock. 

“Fuck me, please,” Bucky begged. “I need you.”

Steve couldn’t say no to that. “Are you ready?”

“Lube up and fuck me,” Bucky replied petulantly. “Please.”

Steve chuckled at the ‘please’ and kissed him.

Bucky looked bereft after Steve pulled his fingers out of his hole. Steve leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“If I had more hands, I’d keep you busy until I was ready to fuck you.”

“You wouldn’t have enough hands to keep me busy, to be honest.”

Steve smiled and shook his head at his retort. “Was that some sort of challenge?”

Bucky shrugged shoulders and licked his lips, saying nothing as he watched Steve coat his cock with lube.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Steve asked. 

Bucky nodded his head. “I’ll be fine. I just want you inside me.”

Lining himself up, Steve pushed against the entrance until it yielded to him. Both men groaned. The heat was enticing; it seemed to pull him in. Slowly, he pushed until he was flush with Bucky’s ass. He paused long enough for Bucky to grow impatient and start squirming.

“What are you doing, Buck?”

“I want you to move. Stop teasing me.”

“You’re pushy.”

“No, not pushy. I just know what I want. I’m being assertive.”

Steve raised his eyebrows at him. Bucky smirked in response. 

“Assertive? I’ll show you assertive,” Steve warned, grabbing Bucky’s wrists, and raising them over his head, pinning them against the back of the chair. Bucky was still smirking, egging him on. Steve wanted to fuck that smirk off his face.

Leaning in, Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear. “Brat.”

• • • • •

Bucky shuddered and gasped at the shivers tumbling down his spine after hearing Steve drop his voice and feeling his breath tickle his ear. He turned to kiss him but Steve pulled away, just out of reach. Bucky wanted to pout, but instead, he was distracted by the rocking motion of Steve’s hips. He sighed, closing his eyes and relishing the length and girth of Steve’s cock.

The easy rocking motion soon gave way to something more demanding. The thrusts grew deeper and more forceful. Bucky opened his eyes to discover how much darker Steve’s eyes had become. They were almost black except for a thin ring of blue outlining his pupils. The only sounds in the studio were their breathing and the chair creaking in rhythm with Steve’s thrusts. Bucky wrapped his legs a little tighter around Steve’s waist, trying to keep his ass from sliding too far off the chair. 

“Have you ever come untouched?” Steve asked.

“No. Why?”

“I’m willing to bet you can.”

“You’re gonna make me do it?”

“If I fuck you right, yeah,” Steve rasped.

“I’m gonna make a mess of the chair.”

“Confident, are we?”

“No. It’s your mother’s—” Steve had pressed a finger against Bucky’s lips to quiet him.

“Shhh, you feel so fucking good right now. So hot. So good being inside you… I just need to fuck you, sweetheart, okay?”

Bucky heard the want in Steve’s voice. The friction, the heat and the scent of sex clouded his mind. Nodding, he slipped the tip of his tongue out to lick the finger pads. Steve smiled, releasing his wrists. Bucky pushed himself more upright with Steve quickly adjusting their position. Bucky pulled him in for a kiss.

“Let’s see if you can come untouched,” Steve smiled encouragingly.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Tightening his grip on Bucky’s hip, Steve moved more vigorously; the sound of skin slapping becoming abundantly louder as time passed. Bucky cried out as his body twitched, feeling Steve brush over his prostate. He half-chanted and half-muttered ‘oh God’ over and over again with every pounding thrust. His cock stiffened and his balls tightened. He wanted to come but he held back; the instinct to prolong the inevitable was strong. 

Steve slowed his pace. “Bucky, look at me.”

Bucky opened his eyes. Steve placed his hand over Bucky’s heart. Even though Bucky was sweating, Steve’s hand radiated warmth, coaxing him to relax and let go.

“Don’t hold back, Buck. Don’t deny it. I’m right here with you. I want to see you make a mess of yourself.”

Bucky inhaled deeply, allowing the tension coiling in his body, to take over. Steve tilted the angle of Bucky’s hips; the head of his cock dragged back and forth over the prostate. Seconds later, Bucky stiffened and shouted as he came all over himself. Steve continued to fuck him through his orgasm. Opening his eyes, he saw Steve looking at him with such hunger and desire, he felt his cheeks grow hotter than they already were.

Steve leaned in to kiss him. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Buck.”

Bucky kissed him back, unable to string two words together. Steve buried his nose into the crook of Bucky’s neck as he continued to pursue his orgasm. A minute later, his rhythm grew erratic. With one final thrust, Steve howled, Bucky felt his cock pulsating inside him. Holding him close, Bucky ran his fingers through Steve’s hair as he listened to his breathing slow down. 

Bucky soon realized that they probably weren’t in the most comfortable position to bask in the afterglow.

“Hey, how about we lie down?” Bucky asked, caressing Steve’s spine. “Being on your knees can’t be that comfortable.”

Steve groaned. “Yeah, sure. A lie down would be great, Buck,” he replied, his words slightly slurred. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Slowly, he pushed himself off Bucky, letting his cock slip out. He groaned as he stood up. He offered his hand for Bucky to hold as he got up from the chair. Steve removed the condom and padded over to the trash can to dispose of it. 

Steve walked out to the kitchen to refill the glasses with water. Bucky made himself comfortable on the memory foam mattress as he waited for Steve to return. His eyes were closed when he heard Steve walk back into the studio.

“I have water,” Steve announced. “You should drink up.”

Bucky turned his head in Steve’s direction and opened his eyes. “I’ll drink it if you snuggle with me.”

“Deal.”

Bucky sat up to make room for Steve and grab the glass of water. He quickly chugged two-thirds of the water before setting it down on the floor. Steve brought the glass to his lips, drinking only half the glass before setting it down beside Bucky’s glass.

Steve pulled him into his arms for a kiss before lying down and cuddling.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, brushing his thumb across Bucky’s lips.

“I feel fucking amazing. How are you doing?” Bucky asked.

“Same as you. Do you think you got some shots you’ll like?” Steve brushed his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“I think I got plenty to choose from,” Bucky replied. “I’m pretty excited about taking a closer look at what I’ve got. I might stay up until three in the morning just looking through all the images. Thank you for doing this, for being a part of my project.”

“You’re more than welcome, Buck. You've got a great eye. Just nurture it, develop it, and let it grow.”

Bucky kissed him. “Thank you for saying that, but honestly, you didn’t have to go in front of the camera for me. I would have been fine if you didn’t want to be part of the project.”

“I know I didn’t have to. But I wanted to be a part of your work. I wanted to help you in some small way.”

“Agreeing to pose for me isn’t a small thing, Steve; especially when you’ve been out of the limelight for this long. Depending who sees the image, it might put the spotlight back on you again if they recognize you.”

“It won’t be a case that it might put the spotlight on me again; it will put me in the spotlight again. And that some of that spotlight will shine on you. It could get interesting.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never been public about my relationships. It’ll be a novelty for them to try to get all the information they can on you.”

“You make them sound so goddamn nosy. It’s nobody’s business,” Bucky said. “Anyway, I have nothing to hide. You’ve never had a contentious relationship with anyone, right?”

“I’ve had moments.”

“With who? Art reviewers? Other artists?” Bucky wondered if anything unsettling ever happened to Steve..

“It wasn’t with art reviewers or other artists. Don’t worry about it, Buck. I’ll tell you about it another time,” Steve replied, tangling their legs together.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him, mildly disappointed he wasn’t going to hear anything remotely scandalous today. “Fine. Anyway, once I get home, I’m going to process the film, make contact sheets and a few prints for you to see. I’ll have something for you to see next week.

“When did you switch over to film? I don't recall when you made the switch.”

“The minute you went naked, to be honest. Nobody gets to print images of you naked except me.”

Steve laughed.

“I love working in the darkroom. I love the whole process… from shooting the subjects to processing the images to printing them.”

“Completely hands-on, I see.”

“You’re like that, too,” Bucky noted. “Aren’t all art creators fundamentally hands-on? It would be hard to deny that we’re not.”

“Not denying anything, Buck,” Steve smiled. “Will you be printing the digital images yourself, as well?”

“Yeah, I have a photo printer I bought in second year with my student discount. I figured I’d splurge on a printer that could do gallery-quality prints.”

“What’s the largest you could print with it?”

Bucky snuggled closer, his head resting comfortably on Steve’s bare chest. 

“13x19,” he replied. “I wouldn’t want it to be any larger than that. If I bought anything that printed larger than 13x19, the printer would be too unwieldy, too bulky, and would take up too much space. I only use it to print projects. The price for the ink isn’t too bad but I don’t want to waste it on printing fun stuff.”

“So, strictly for your personal projects and your degree,” Steve surmised.

Bucky hummed in the affirmative. Again, he found the mattress enticingly comfortable, and all he wanted to do was close his eyes with Steve’s arms wrapped around him. 

“Do you mind if we take a nap?” Bucky asked. “It’s been a long day.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Steve chuckled. “But I have to correct you; we’re nowhere near five o’clock. I think I wore you out.”

“Must you brag?”

• • • • •

Walking into the diner, Steve looked around for Bucky. It was half an hour before closing and there were a couple of customers finishing up their meals and preparing to leave. Bucky had called him over the weekend to let him know he had developed the film and made contact sheets of their session. He had sounded so excited about the images. He was effusive about everything and had already decided what he was going to print for Steve to look at. Steve couldn’t stop smiling as he listened to Bucky.

“When can I see them?” Steve had asked.

“How about Wednesday? Come down to the diner, thirty minutes before closing, pick me up and we’ll go somewhere quiet so you can look at them.”

“How about we come back to my place and you can spend the night? Do you have to work the next morning?”

Even though they had been together for a relatively short time, Steve couldn’t deny the fact he missed having Bucky take up space in his home and in his bed. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when Bucky had to go back to Chicago.

“No, I’m not scheduled to work Thursday. But I’m working Friday and Saturday. I’ll pack an extra shirt and underwear.”

Courtesy of Steve, Bucky already had a toothbrush and towels at his disposal whenever he stayed the night. As far as he knew, Bucky never mentioned whether or not his mother had misgivings about the nights he spent with him.

Steve ambled over to the counter and sat on one of the stools. Becca walked out from the kitchen. She saw him and waved.

“Bucky’s just taking the garbage out to the bin,” she explained with a smile. “He’ll be right back.”

“I’m in no rush,” Steve replied. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing great; can’t complain about anything at the moment. Did you want anything to drink? The coffee was brewed about half an hour ago. It’s on the house,” she offered. “I think there’s half a pot left. I’d hate to see it literally go down the drain.”

Steve grinned. “Sure, I’ll have a cup. How’s your Ma doing? Is she still back there in the kitchen?”

Becca grabbed a mug and poured the coffee.

“Always. She’s got a couple of the staff starting on clean up and prepping stuff for tomorrow. It’s old hat for her at this point. She runs the kitchen like a well-oiled machine. How are you and Bucky doing?”

“Isn’t that a question you should be asking your brother?”

“He blushes every time I ask him. He tells me everything’s great and leaves it at that.”

Steve laughed. “What were you hoping to find out?”

“Well, I don’t want to know about your sex life if that’s what you were thinking. Bucky seems to think I want to know all about the down and dirty stuff. I don’t ask because that’s between the two of you and I don’t need any images stuck in my head. Also, if he told me shit, it would mean I would have to tell him shit, too.” Becca shook her head. “That’s not happening.”

Steve laughed again. “Okay, so what is it that you want to know?”

“I just want to know things are going good between you two.”

“You’re not going to threaten to beat the shit out of me if things end between me and him, are you?”

“Nah, you’re both grown men. I’m sure you can figure it out. But you’re not planning to end things with him once he goes back to Chicago, are you? It’s his last year, then he’ll be free after that.”

Steve admired how much Becca was looking out for her little brother.

“I don’t see this as some sort of Summer fling,” he replied. “I’m not planning on ending anything with him and it won’t stop just because he’ll be three hours away. We haven’t talked about it yet. But we will before he leaves.”

Becca nodded. “Good. He’s been really happy since you two started seeing each other. He might be worried about what happens when he goes back. He didn’t flat out tell me but he gets quiet and thoughtful whenever I mention Chicago. You didn’t hear that from me though.”

Steve nodded his understanding before taking a sip of his coffee. 

The kitchen door swung open. Bucky peeked through the door’s round window and instantly spotted Steve. Smiling, he made a beeline straight for him.

“Hey,” he said, sliding right next to his sister. 

“Hey,” Steve replied with a bigger smile. 

“Has my sister been harassing you? I’ll get mom on her case— Owww!”

Bucky rubbed his shoulder where his sister had pinched him a second ago.

“Smart ass,” she said. “I would never harass your beau.”

Bucky stuck out his tongue at her, then laughed. Shaking her head, Becca walked over to the register where two customers were waiting to pay their tab.

“You’re in an awfully good mood,” Steve observed. “You shouldn’t tease your sister like that. You’re lucky she didn’t box your ears.”

“Box your ears? You sound like you came out of the 1940s or something. Becs and I are good. She teases me just as much.”

“Must be nice to have a sibling.”

“Yeah, it is. I know you’re an only child… so I guess you don’t quite understand what it’s like?”

“No, I don’t. Sometimes, I think it would have been nice to have a brother or a sister, just to go through the rough spots in life together; to have someone to lean on or at least commiserate with.”

Bucky looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I could loan Becca to you,” he offered. “She’s a great sister even though she can be a pain in the ass.”

Steve smiled at the cheeky offer. “No, I don’t need a sister. I made it this far without one. Also, I don’t think you should be giving your sister away like that.”

“She can handle herself. Don’t be fooled by her looks, she’ll kick your ass if she has to.”

“I honestly wouldn’t be surprised. Do you have anything left to do around here? I don’t mind waiting; I haven’t finished this coffee yet.”

“I’m just gonna sweep and mop the floor. It’s usually quiet until we close. Anybody coming in now is usually doing takeout or looking to see if there’s anything left of mom’s baking.”

“Need any help?”

“No, it’s all good. Just sit there and look handsome.”

Steve laughed.

For twenty-five minutes, Steve let his mind wander aimlessly as he watched Bucky sweep and mop the floor. Bucky squeezed the mop one last time before picking up the pail and walking it back into the kitchen. He winked at Steve as he walked past him. “Did you like the show?”

“What show?”

“Me wiggling my ass as I mopped the floor.”

“Oh, that.” Before Steve could answer, Bucky disappeared into the kitchen. More than a minute later, Bucky walked out with his gym bag slung over his shoulder and his portfolio case by his side.

“Well?” he asked.

“Well, what?”

“Did you like the show?” Bucky over exaggerated his butt wiggle to remind him what he was referring to.

Steve shrugged. “It was nice.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Punk.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you that I was thinking about eating your ass while you were mopping the floor. That would have been unfair.”

“Now you’re just being a fucking asshole,” Bucky stated with a smile. “But yeah, you’re right; saying that would have been seriously unfair.”

“See, I was doing you a favor.”

“I’d rather you do me but we can discuss that later,” Bucky said with a wink.

The kitchen door swung open and out walked Winnifred carrying two bags filled with food containers. Smiling, she walked over to them and handed the bag over to Steve.

“This is for the two of you,” she said. “Have it for dinner or whenever you feel like eating. How are you doing, Steve?”

“I’m doing really well, Winnie. And you?”

“Busy as usual, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Bucky peered into the bag. “Mom, you didn’t have to give him all this food. He does know how to cook.”

“You know I would never refuse your mother’s cooking, Buck,” Steve said. “Her cooking is the best.”

“No need to butter me up, Steve,” Winnifred said, waving her hand dismissively at the compliment. “Just enjoy the food and take care of Bucky.”

“Mom, I know how to look after myself.”

Winnifred gently cupped his cheek. “I know you do. I’m just saying what all mothers would say when their children go off to have sleepovers with their friends.”

Steve laughed. Now he knew where Becca and Bucky got their sass from.

“Mom, he’s not just a friend and you know it,” Bucky replied, trying hard not to laugh.

Winnifred laughed and looked at Steve. “You’re doing me a favor by taking the food. I hate having leftovers at the end of the day. Either I take it home or I tell the staff to scavenge what’s left and take it home for themselves.”

“Well, thank you for the food,” Steve said, leaning in to give Winnifred a kiss on the cheek. “It’s much appreciated.”

“Well, you have a lovely evening and I’ll see you two later.”

Bucky leaned in to give his mother a kiss on the cheek, as well. “Thanks for the food, mom. All that will be gone in no time.”

He reached out to grab hold of Steve’s hand, pulled him in a little closer and kissed him. “Come on, let’s go. I have some pictures to show you.”


	10. Show and tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets to see the images Bucky took during their photo session:
> 
> “It looks like you picked the two sexiest and most erotic images out of everything.”
> 
> “Well, you did take the picture, you did make the edits, and these two images were in the group,” Steve pointed out in a teasing tone. “I wasn’t going to ignore the fact you chose them.”
> 
> “Okay, you busted me,” Bucky smiled. “I’m just blown away by how well the shower shots turned out. I probably spent a whole afternoon just staring at them. I’m really glad I used the ring light. It gives the water enough contrast. The images just sing when the water is lit that way. And it doesn’t hurt that you look really hot.”
> 
> Steve chuckled. “Is it safe to assume these images are worth jerking off to?” he teased.
> 
> Bucky’s cheeks pinkened. “Uhm, yes, they are. I can confirm that based on first-hand experience.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Now, that we're into November, the remaining chapters will be posted on Mondays and Fridays.
> 
> Thanks again for all the interest and enthusiasm for the fic.
> 
> Without further ado, here is the next chapter. See you all again on Friday :)

Bucky watched Steve head straight for the kitchen after opening the front door of his home. After dropping his portfolio and gym bag onto the sofa, he strolled into the kitchen where Steve had the food containers on the counter and opened each one to see what Winnifred had packed for them. 

Admittedly, Bucky was curious, too. The food was still hot and the aroma emanating from the bag had filled the SUV, making both of them salivate during the drive back to Steve’s place. He could smell the chicken pot pie. He also caught a glimpse of two tall containers that seemed to carry soup or chili. He was sure his mother had filled one container full of chili but he wasn’t sure about the other. It was either minestrone or the roasted fennel and cauliflower cream soup. 

“What did she pack for you?”

“You mean what did she pack for us?” Steve corrected. “She packed a feast would be my guess.”

Bucky surveyed the spread of food. What didn’t his mother give them? Four chicken pot pies. One container of chili. Just as Bucky hoped, the other container held roasted fennel and cauliflower cream soup with an accompanying small container of homemade bacon bits for garnish. Somehow, his mother had managed to sneak in a small loaf of brioche which was one of Bucky’s favorite breads to use for french toast. He also noticed the roasted beets and turnips in another container. For dessert, it seemed his mother packed half a peach cobbler, and a half-dozen wildberry custard tarts.

“Clearly, my mom thinks you’re starving,” Bucky remarked as he grabbed a soup spoon from the drawer and dipped it into the cauliflower cream soup.

Steve chuckled. “Maybe your mother doesn’t think I feed you when you’re here.” 

Bucky gave him a skeptical look and scoffed. “I doubt that. She knows what I look like. I’m not exactly starving.”

Steve laughed. “Did you want to eat now and then look at the images or the other way around?”

Bucky swallowed the spoonful of soup, letting the flavors dance on his tongue. “It’s still a little early to have dinner. Let’s look at the images now.”

• • • • •

Seated on the sofa, Bucky opened his portfolio. A bundle of black and white prints sat in one of the pocket sleeves. Pulling them out, he handed them over to Steve who was eager to see what Bucky had captured on film.

On top of the bundle were a dozen contact sheets. Bucky had already marked the ones he liked with a blue grease pencil. Steve examined those first. Bucky handed him a magnifying glass.

“I’d give you a loupe for you to look at them but there’s no light table so the magnifying glass will have to do.”

Steve looked out the living room window. “It’s still bright outside. I could put the contact sheet up against the window and look at it through the loupe if you have it with you.”

Bucky stared at the windows. “Yeah, that would do. I didn’t think about using the window. Good idea.” 

He dug out the loupe from one of the gym bag pockets and handed it over to Steve. He watched Steve methodically examine each image. Quickly grabbing his cellphone, Bucky took a picture of Steve examining the contact sheet. He loved the way the ambient light washed over his lover.

• • • • •

Looking at the images through the loupe, Steve was impressed at how Bucky saw him. The exposures were good, almost perfect. It was fascinating for him to see the decisions Bucky made with each image he captured. He scrutinized the images that Bucky had marked as his favorites, and he couldn’t disagree with his choices. 

He examined each contact sheet the same way he had done with the first. Looking at Bucky’s images this closely was exciting and new for Steve, and he couldn’t be happier about it.

After examining the last contact sheet, he handed it and the loupe back to Bucky who was watching and waiting patiently for Steve to finish. 

“Well, what do you think?” Bucky asked with a hint of nervousness in this voice.

“What do _you_ think?”

“You can’t answer a question with another question, Steve.”

“Why not?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “God, why are you such a punk?” Bucky walked back to the sofa. Steve followed him without hesitation.

“Because I like teasing you,” he replied with a smile.

Bucky sat down, and grabbed the rest of the photographic prints. “No, seriously, what do you think about the images?”

“Okay, before I answer, I just want to know how you feel about what you’ve got here.”

“I told you already over the phone.”

Steve sat down beside him. “Remind me again. And no, I have forgotten what you said. I want to hear you say it again.”

Bucky sighed fondly, leaning in to kiss him. “How do I feel about them? I love them. It’s my best work yet. Maybe I’m speaking too soon since I know how I see things will get better with more experience and as I get older. But regardless of what I photograph in the future, this set of images and our session will always be one of my top creative moments. I’m really fucking happy with them.”

Bucky beamed with joy, Steve thought. He adored seeing him get excited about something he loved.

“I think I set the bar kinda high for myself, though,” Bucky added.

“What do you mean?”

“It feels like beginner’s luck. I don’t know if I’ll be as excited about photographing the other people for the project. Actually, that came out wrong; I mean I’ll be excited about getting the chance to photograph everyone for the project. I don’t know if it will be as fluid and easy as it was working with you. I just wonder if it’s all going to be some kind of letdown, in a way, moving forward from this.”

• • • • •

Steve looked at him with great affection, his fingers lightly caressing Bucky’s forearm.

“Feeling apprehensive or worried is normal,” Steve said reassuringly. “To be honest, I think it’s a sign that you care a lot about the project. When you care that much, the project won’t be a failure. You’re right though, not all of the sessions with the other people you photograph will go as smoothly as our session, but you’ll get to learn how to deal with each situation as it happens. You learn to think on your feet and problem-solve on the fly. It will inform all your artistic decisions and how you approach and execute future projects.”

“Yeah, I know you’re right. I just have to be confident in knowing I can roll with the punches. It’s exciting and scary at the same time.”

“Just be open to the experience.”

“Was that how it was for you when you started out?”

“I was definitely flying by the seat of my pants,” Steve chuckled. “I was brazenly confident about my skills. But nobody complained because they loved my work. I did have my moments. And I made a point to let no one see me when those doubts started creeping into my head.”

“How often did that happen?”

“Often enough for me to step back from everything and live here.”

Steve watched Bucky consider his last statement. He knew he had questions about why he left New York. But instead of forging ahead and asking the questions that sat on his mind, Bucky chose to wait for him to open the door to allow the conversation to happen.

Steve greatly appreciated his patience and approach. He wasn’t sure if he meant to leave the door slightly ajar at this moment but he had to admit he was curious to see if Bucky would consider it permission to ask his questions. And he wasn’t sure if he was ready to jump in with Bucky.

“You know I have questions about why you left New York, right?” Bucky’s voice was careful and measured; a change from his excited tone minutes ago.

“Yes, I know,” Steve replied.

“As much as I want to ask you about it, I’m gonna wait until you say you want to talk about it with me. I’m letting you know there’s no rush, I’m willing to wait.”

Steve smiled, realizing he was relieved about not having to talk about it yet. “You’re amazing, you know that. And you’re annoyingly mature for your age.”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “I can be mature when I want to be… when it matters.”

“I know you have questions, Buck. And like I said before, I do want to tell you. I’m not quite ready, but I will be. I don’t think you’ll have to wait a long time for that conversation.”

The feeling of not being forthcoming with Bucky gnawed at Steve. He didn’t like the feeling at all. He didn’t understand why he was holding back. Or maybe he did know and just hadn’t faced it yet.

Bucky nodded. “Good. So, do you want to see the working prints I made of the ones I marked up?”

“Yeah, I absolutely do,” Steve replied, grateful to be back to focusing on Bucky and his images.

Taking the bundle of 8x10 black and white prints from Bucky, Steve took his time looking at each print. He had almost forgotten how beautiful black and white images were. Looking at the images the size of 35mm film on a contact sheet didn’t compare to seeing them exponentially larger on 8x10 photographic paper.

The richness of the tones jumped out at him. It spoke volumes to how accurate the exposures were. It gave Bucky a lot of latitude in the darkroom to play with the printing of the images.

“These can’t be working prints, Buck,” Steve remarked. “These could go up in a gallery as they are.”

“Thanks, but yeah, they are working prints,” Bucky confirmed. “I like having good ones; it gives me an ideal of how much I can play with in the darkroom. If I wanted to hang these images in a gallery, I would print them on larger paper.”

“How much larger?”

“The average paper size would be 11x14 and I’ll go as large as 16x20. But it’s really fucking pricey to have them matted and framed at that size, so I would print my three best or favorite images at that size. Maybe.”

“I assume the school has an annual student art show.”

“Yeah, they do. I haven’t done one yet but this coming year, all the thesis students will be part of the show, and I’m looking forward to that. I’d like you to attend the opening if you’re interested.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It would be my first show.”

Steve smiled. Bucky was thinking about the future, or at least several months down the road. Bucky wanted him in his life. The thought warmed him to the core. 

“Your first show? Of course, I’m interested. Once you know when it is, let me know. We’ll make an evening out of it.”

The look on Bucky’s face almost melted Steve’s heart. It was a mix of one part surprise, two parts relief and three parts joy. 

“Yeah? That would be fucking awesome,” Bucky beamed. “Do you have any favorites from the session?”

Steve looked through the images again. There were several that he loved. He selected them and handed them over to Bucky. He smiled when he saw what Steve had chosen as his favorites.

“These are interesting choices, Steve. But they’re also great choices.” Bucky chuckled at the image sitting on top of the half-dozen images. “Lumberjack?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I have to admit I look cliché but I honestly look decent in that shot. I love the movement in the image. You caught me a second before I swung the axe down on the logs. All that muscle tension in my body. Anyway, there’s a lot of energy coming off that image. Visually, it flows effortlessly. It also looks like I workout.”

Bucky laughed out loud. “You’re pretty fucking fit, Steve. I don’t know why you keep playing the modesty card with me. You look awesome in this shot. I wouldn’t have a problem jerking off to this image.”

Steve’s cheeks suddenly burned hot as an image of Bucky doing just that etched itself into his brain. “Thanks for putting that image into my head, Buck.” 

“You’re welcome,” Bucky smiled mischievously. He looked at the next image. He was lying in the hammock, reading a book. The photograph carried a much calmer energy than the wood splitting image. It was a deceptively simple image. Steve looked oblivious to the viewer, but they both knew he was far from it. 

“You have a good poker face,” Bucky stated. 

“Poker face?”

“Do you play poker? Because I’m betting you could rake in a lot of money. You were watching me when I was walking around you, taking pictures.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You were giving off a vibe.”

“A vibe?”

“I can’t put it into words but there’s something about you that tells me when you’re watching me and when you’re not. You were watching me the whole time.”

“Some people would consider that creepy.”

“I don’t think that way.”

“That’s because you’re smitten with me.”

“I’d like to think I’m more than smitten with you, Mr. Rogers.”

Steve raised his hand to brush a strand of hair out of Bucky’s eyes. “I’d like to say I feel the same way about you.”

They gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment. Bucky was the first to break out of their little moment.

“I should see what else you picked as your favorites.”

The next two images were from the shower. Steve listened to Bucky clear his throat.

“It looks like you picked the two sexiest and most erotic images out of everything.”

“Well, you did take the picture, you did make the edits, and these two images were in the group,” Steve pointed out in a teasing tone. “I wasn’t going to ignore the fact you chose them.”

“Okay, you busted me,” Bucky smiled. “I’m just blown away by how well the shower shots turned out. I probably spent a whole afternoon just staring at them. I’m really glad I used the ring light. It gives the water enough contrast. The images just sing when the water is lit that way. And it doesn’t hurt that you look really hot.”

Steve chuckled. “Is it safe to assume these images are worth jerking off to?” he teased.

Bucky’s cheeks pinkened. “Uhm, yes, they are. I can confirm that based on first-hand experience.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. “You have no idea how much I would have loved to have seen that.”

“It was the only way I was going to get any sleep that night,” Bucky admitted.

Bucky looked at the last two images which were taken in the studio. One image was a wide shot of the studio with Steve seated in the wingback armchair, looking out the window. 

“I like that you got a shot of the studio and I’m just part of the scenery,” Steve commented, explaining his choice.

“If this was a color image the navy would have popped out,” Bucky remarked. “Everything in the studio was in earthtones.”

“It looks like it belongs when it’s in black and white. I never thought about taking a picture of the studio, let alone have my portrait taken in there. It’s a really beautiful image, Buck.”

The second image was of Steve sitting in the chair, looking straight at Bucky, looking self-assured. Steve noticed Bucky’s lips forming a soft smile.

“I’m really fond of this image,” Bucky stated. “Your expression, the way you were looking at me, is the reason this image is so good.”

“Maybe you bring the best out in me,” Steve suggested.

Bucky turned to look at Steve. “I don’t know about that, but it’s really kind of you to say so.”

Steve gave him a chaste kiss. “I’m gonna stand by those words because I know it’s true.”

Bucky blushed even more and Steve couldn’t get enough of those pretty pink cheeks.

“So now that you know which images are my favorites, what are you planning to do next with them?”

“My plan is to make archival-quality prints for you to keep. They’ll be ready next week so you look for some space on your walls.”

“Wow, that’s great. Thank you.”

“It's a small gesture considering how generous you were with your time, and how great you were to collaborate with. It was a fantastic learning experience.”

“I had a really good time being your model, your muse. And honestly, this is the first time I didn’t mind looking at myself.”

Bucky tilted his head slightly in wonder. “You’re a very attractive man. I don’t quite understand why you would be uncomfortable about seeing an image of yourself.”

Steve thought for a moment before replying. “What were you like as a kid?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “My mom would say I was an angel. Becca would say I got away with murder most of the time because I was the baby of the family.”

Steve smiled at the idea of Bucky as a trouble-making child. “Did you ever feel insecure about your physical appearance when you were growing up?”

“I was a little chubby but I was never really teased because of it. I heard the odd remark but I never really understood it at the time because I was too young. But that might also have something to do with Becca threatening anyone who dared to do or say anything negative about me. But the adults would tell me I was a cute kid. It made me think that the youngest child in any family was always the cutest. Why do you ask?”

“I was an awkward looking, skinny little kid. Nothing about me would have told anyone that I was going to turn out like this,” he said gesturing to himself. 

“From the pictures I’ve seen of you with your parents, you didn’t look awkward to me. Were you teased or bullied?”

“No, I was never teased but it felt like I wasn’t wanted. It felt like I was persona non grata for some reason. That’s when I started drawing and found out I was good at it. The adults started noticing me because I could draw. Then my classmates noticed; I became a small blip on their radar, but a blip nonetheless.

“I was a small, skinny little shit until I turned sixteen,” Steve continued. “Over that summer, I sprouted six inches and didn’t stop growing until after I turned eighteen. And I turned into this, but without the beard.”

“I bet you turned some heads.”

Steve smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I did. I gained a lot of confidence, but I was also a bit of an asshole. Or I was a major asshole, depending on who you talk to. I had a chip on my shoulder when I was growing up and I didn’t realize how big it had become or how mad I was. It was another reason I stepped away.”

“Why were you so mad?”

“No one noticed me until I became what society would consider conventionally attractive. Then it just seemed to overshadow my artwork. The art critics were fine. I could handle them regardless of what they thought about my work. But outside of the art world, any articles about me were always prefaced by remarks about my looks before there was any discussion about the art.”

“Isn’t that part of the game? Having to play by the rules already set in place?”

“Sure, there’s a game. But I didn’t like the way the agent who was representing me at the time was beginning to play it, especially with my name and work. There’s a way to play the game and still be true to yourself. He wasn’t helping me at all. 

“You see this,” Steve said, gesturing to his face and body. “But when I look in the mirror, I sometimes still see skinny little me before the growth spurt. Sometimes I catch myself falling into that pit and I get grouchy, but I have a good handle on it now.”

Bucky’s heart hurt a little to hear Steve talk about himself that way. Until this moment, Steve had always been self-assured and confident around him. He was nearly unflappable. But he understood the impact negative comments could have on a child, how it could follow the child as they grew up and then lurk in the back of their minds as adults. He never had an impactful experience with it so he considered himself fortunate, but seeing Steve still be stung by and haunted by his childhood memories was something that stung Bucky too.

He also understood Steve opening up to him was an important and symbolic step in their relationship. Steve was willing to be vulnerable.

“What was your agent’s name? You’ve never mentioned having one before.”

“His name was Alexander Pierce. He’s still around but his considerable stable of clients has diminished because my spat with him was very public. Some walked away and some he dropped because they got into it with him too.

“In the end, I walked away from Pierce but not without him trying to sue me for breach of contract. It got ugly for a while but I didn’t lose too much money. When that was over, I began working with Sam.”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess that Sam is your agent now?”

“Yeah, he’s my agent. But more importantly, he’s my best friend. We grew up together. We met in fourth grade. His family had moved to New York from New Orleans. He was an outsider, I felt like an outsider, so we got along. He was also interested in art. We were terrors in art class. We’d make a mess at our table. It didn’t matter what we were doing, we were just plain messy. Nobody wanted to sit near us.”

Bucky smiled. “Did he like to paint or draw?”

“He liked to paint but he didn’t like to draw.”

“Isn’t drawing a fundamental skill you need before moving onto other mediums?”

“Yes, but that he always did his own thing.”

“He never wanted to be an artist?”

“He loves art but he didn’t necessarily want to be an artist. Unlike me, he finished college. He majored in business management, minored in art history, and picked up a certificate in arts management after that.”

“Wow, he’s driven.”

“He’s a hard worker. Smart guy. A lot of people underestimate him, but once they’ve met him and had dealings with him, they have nothing but respect for him. I’d like you to meet him one day.”

“I’d like that,” Bucky said as he put his prints back in his portfolio. “Actually, I’d like to meet all your friends.”

“You will when the opportunity presents itself.”

Steve felt lighter for some reason. He didn’t think it was entirely the result of talking about him growing up and feeling invisible. 

“Are you hungry yet?” he asked. “We’ll warm up some of the food and have dinner out on the veranda.”

“Yeah, that sounds great. And what are we doing after dinner?”

Steve smirked. “I don’t know. Hadn’t planned on anything specific.”

“Considering I’m spending the night, I think you should think of something to keep us occupied. I’m not planning to go to bed early.”

“Really? We’ll see about that.”


	11. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky meets Sam and Nat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Here's something to read for the weekend. We're getting closer to the end and also getting closer to seeing the art Middi created. I think you'll enjoy this chapter.
> 
> Again, thank you for following this fic. See you on Monday when the next chapter drops. Enjoy!

The sound of a car engine followed by the crunching of gravel caught Steve’s attention. Looking at his watch, he realized he had lost track of time. Putting down his brush, he scrutinized his watercolor of Bucky one more time before heading to the front door to greet his visitors.

Opening the door, Steve spotted his two best friends climb out of their rented SUV and approach the veranda with their luggage. Huge smiles lit up Sam and Nat’s faces as they caught sight of him.

“We have arrived,” Sam announced with a gift-wrapped package in his hand. “We come bearing a gift.”

“You know you didn’t have to do that.”

“Why not?” Sam asked. “Your birthday was at the beginning of the month. It’s only right to bring along our belated birthday gift for you to open. It’s not extravagant, it’s only food.”

“Alright, then I accept. Whatever it is had better go good with beer.”

“It does. Warn the neighbors because the party is about to get started.”

“Sam, you know damn well my partying days are over,” Steve replied, stepping out onto the veranda to hug them. “And you know the neighbours are far enough away that they won’t be able to hear your nonsense.”

“You may be a recluse but I seriously doubt you’re dead,” Sam retorted, hugging back his best friend. “Are you ready to put up with us for the next few days?”

“I sure am. The room is ready for you, guys.” Steve reached out and pulled Nat into a hug. “Good to see you.”

“Likewise, Rogers,” she said, hugging him tightly. “New York is boring without you.”

Steve laughed. “I highly doubt that. I’m far from bored living out here. Come on in, it’s hot out here. I have some iced lemon tea in the fridge waiting for you.”

• • • • •

“This iced tea tastes different,” Nat quipped. “This isn’t your usual powdered stuff, is it?”

“No, it isn’t,” Steve replied. “I actually used tea and lemons. I finally figured out how to make it.”

“It’s not that hard,” she laughed. “I’m surprised you’ve taken the time to make it from scratch.”

“Well, I am running on my own schedule, Nat. I thought it was about time I made more things from scratch.”

“Took you five years to get around to it,” she teased.

“Hey, I started the vegetable garden after my first year here,” he said with a touch of mock defensiveness. “And I installed a drip irrigation system this year, and if all goes well I’m going to build another raised garden bed and build a root cellar.”

“You’re turning into a farmer,” she smiled.

“No, just trying to live off the land a little more,” Steve clarified. “I have more than enough land for one person, I should be doing more with it than I already do.”

“So, does that mean you might never settle back in Brooklyn?” Sam asked.

“Never is a strong word,” Steve said thoughtfully. “I’d say maybe I wouldn’t mind having two homes, here and somewhere in Brooklyn; but I don’t have any plans to look right now. I like it here. And I like staying detached from everything.”

“Well, give it some consideration when Nat and I make you a godfather,” Sam insisted.

Steve stared at the both of them. “Are you expecting?”

“Not yet,” Nat replied with a smile. “But we might have started aggressive negotiations to get that to happen.”

“I don’t think the walls are that soundproof here,” Steve smiled. “Not to be a killjoy, but maybe hold off on negotiations until you get home or at least warn me so I can sleep with earplugs.”

Nat and Sam laughed. “So, let’s take a look at some of your new work,” Nat suggested. “I’m dying to see what you’ve been up to.”

“Is that the only reason you’re here? You missed my art?” Steve teased. “Oh, I see how it is. And I thought you guys missed me,” he said with mock disappointment, leading them towards the studio.

Sam laughed. “Don’t be guilt-trippin’ us. We do miss you, buddy. But speaking as your agent, I like to keep apprised of what you’ve been working on.”

Entering the studio, Steve was excited to see their expressions once they got a look at the handful of finished pieces, as well as the rest in various stages of completion. He was really quite proud of what he had done so far considering the amount of time he had been away from it.

“Those are done,” he said, directing their gaze to the three completed pieces hanging on the wall. All of them were of Bucky. One piece was done in charcoal only. The second piece was done with charcoal and watercolor. The third piece was created with ink and watercolor. Steve couldn’t bring himself to use acrylics just yet. When he thought of drawing or painting Bucky’s likeness, acrylics were never an option. He didn’t think acrylics suited how he regarded his lover. He remained quiet, watching Sam and Nat mull over the pieces. 

“These are beautiful, Steve,” Nat enthused. 

“Your hiatus hasn’t hindered you at all,” Sam observed with a smile.

“Who is your model? He’s quite handsome.”

“That’s Bucky,” Steve replied. “He’s going into his last year of his photography Master’s over at the Institute of Chicago.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes, really. He’s shooting exclusively in black and white film for his thesis.”

“Film? He’s a kindred spirit. How did you find him?”

Steve was amused by Nat’s excitement over Bucky’s photographic leanings.

“I met him back in May at his mother’s diner in Shelbyville,” he replied. “He was taking my order.”

“How did you go from meeting him at a diner to drawing him?” Sam inquired.

Steve paused. “I should probably add that we’re seeing each other. That happened between meeting him and drawing him.”

“Are you shittin’ me?” Nat asked. She was gleeful at the news. “How long after you two meet did you start dating?”

“Not long after.”

“I’m impressed and really happy for you,” Sam said. “You’ve been alone for far too long. Are we still in the honeymoon stage?”

“Yeah, we’re still in the honeymoon stage if that’s what you want to call it. There’s nothing to complain about. To be honest, I think he’s the one.”

Nat’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?! When did you come to that conclusion?” 

“Wait, seriously?” Sam added quickly. “I’ve never heard you talk about anyone that way before. Does he know you’re thinking this way.”

“I haven’t come right out and said it to him. But I don’t think he’s going to run from me when we talk about the future.”

“When, not if,” Nat said, repeating his words. “I’m impressed, Rogers. You definitely know where you want this relationship to go. Are we going to meet him? Maybe in the next couple of days?”

“Let’s discuss that idea after you see more of my works-in-progress.”

Steve showed his best friends additional drawings and watercolors. With every piece, the reactions were the same. Sam and Nat loved the art he was creating and they wanted to see more.

“Steve, all these pieces feel really different from your previous work,” Nat commented. “I can’t tell if it’s because you didn’t do anything for so long or if Bucky is the reason for this shift.”

“Maybe it’s both,” Steve offered. “Going back into a studio setting does feel different. It feels better and I don’t know what else to say to make it any clearer.”

He watched Sam and Nat scan the table, hungry for more pieces to look at. Nat reached out for a folder containing the images Bucky shot of Steve. 

“I have to warn you that that folder doesn’t have any of my work,” he advised Nat.

She paused and put the folder back on the table. 

“Actually, it’s alright if you want to take a look,” Steve added. “They’re just pictures of me that Bucky took a while ago.”

“Oh? Are you wearing clothes or are you naked?”

“Why is that your first question?” Steve asked.

Nat laughed. “One: a little forewarning goes a long way. Two: sometimes I never know what to expect from you. Three: You’re in a relationship with a very hot-looking man who happens to be a photographer so I wouldn’t put it past the both of you to create some images for one’s personal viewing pleasure,” she smiled slyly. “I, myself, happen to have a lovely little collection of images of Sam on my phone for whenever I’m on assignment and I’m bored and lonely, and in need of a little pick-me-up.”

Sam looked at her, mildly aggrieved. “Did you have to share that with him?”

“I’m just telling him, baby. I’m not showing him. You know I don’t share,” she said with a wink.

Sam simply rolled his eyes and smiled, turning back to look at Steve’s sketches.

“Wow, that was too much information, Nat,” Steve deadpanned. “I love you, guys, but I didn’t need to know that.”

“Am I going to regret looking at these pictures?” Nat asked, grabbing the folder again.

“No, I highly doubt it. I’m really happy with them to be honest.”

“This is your totally unbiased opinion, right?” she smiled.

“Yes, it is, in fact. You know how much I hate having my picture taken.”

“I do know,” she replied. “And that’s why I appreciate your effort and implicit trust in me whenever I take a picture of you. It also says a lot that you let Bucky photograph you.”

A few seconds after opening the folder, the look of surprise appeared on her face. She looked up at Steve. “These images are stunning,” she stated.

Sam peeked over her shoulder to see what she was seeing, and he blew a low whistle. “You said he’s going to finish his Master’s this year, right?”

“Assuming everything goes according to plan, yeah.” Steve couldn’t help but smile at his friends’ reactions to Bucky’s images.

“What are his plans after he gets his degree?”

“His main goal is to be a working artist but he has plans to fall back onto other jobs for a steady income while he gets himself established. But you would have to ask him for more specifics.”

“Are these final prints?” Nat asked.

“Ah, no. Those are working prints. I picked out three I really liked and he printed them on 16x20 paper but I haven’t gotten around to getting them framed and matted.”

“These are excellent working prints,” she said. “His printing skills are better than most of the photographers I know who are still using a darkroom. Aside from that, he has a strong eye for composition. He knows how to use lighting. His exposures are great. And you looking fucking amazing, by the way. Black and white suits you.”

Steve’s chest puffed up hearing how effusive Nat was over Bucky’s photographic and darkroom skills.

“You should tell Bucky what you just said,” he advised. “He’s a big fan of your work, especially your documentary stuff.”

“He is? That’s so sweet. He’s sounding more impressive by the minute. Are the larger images here? Could we see them?”

“Yeah, they’re here. Just give me a minute.”

Steve stepped out of the studio to grab the three prints he had stashed away in his walk-in closet. He returned to find Sam and Nat had cleared and tidied the table to make room for the prints. 

Placing the prints on the table, he watched Nat and Sam look at all three before taking a closer look at the first one which was the overall shot of the studio with him sitting in the chair. Then they moved on to the next print, the one where Steve looked directly at Bucky. It was also the one where he was thinking about having Bucky go down on him after they finished their photo shoot, but he wasn’t going to reveal that little piece of information to the pair. The last image they examined was the one where he stood by Nat’s bathtub image of him. He didn’t miss the small smile Nat had on her lips when she looked at that particular image.

“I love looking at film grain,” Nat commented. “Digital pixels don’t do a thing for me.”

“Are you looking for something in particular?” Steve asked. He had never really paid attention to why Nat would so scrupulously examine another photographer’s images before. But with Bucky in his life, he was now genuinely curious.

“I like looking at a print or digital file to see what kind of information I can get from it,” Nat replied.

“What kind of information?”

“It’s just technical stuff and technique. I like to see how well they burned or dodged an area on the print. If it’s a digital file, I like to see how well they can work in a digital darkroom. I’m looking at color correcting and other enhancements.”

“So, you're being a hard ass.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m being a hard ass,” Nat replied. “I’m particular about images in general.”

“That still sounds hard ass to me,” Steve reiterated with a smile. 

“For your information, I see no reason to be a hard ass about Bucky’s work. These are crisp images. He’s intuitive and he has a great eye. I’m very impressed. I can’t imagine what his images will be like ten years from now.”

“I’m with Nat on this,” Sam chimed in. “We’d love to meet him. Is he free to meet us while we’re here?”

“Let me call him and see what his schedule is like this week,” Steve replied. “He’s at the diner right now and the lunch hour rush ended an hour ago. He should have a couple of minutes to talk. By the way, are you guys hungry? I can put together some sandwiches for you.”

“Don’t worry about us,” said Sam, putting the prints together in a pile. “We know our way around your kitchen, we’ll check out the fridge and see what you have.”

As Nat and Sam headed off to the kitchen, Steve called Bucky.

“Hey, you,” Bucky answered.

“What? No ‘hello, how are you?’ ” Steve asked.

“Do we have to be so formal? I knew it was you. We can occasionally skip the hellos and get down to the meat of the call. What’s up?”

“I was wondering what you’re doing this evening?”

“Not a heck of a lot. I thought I’d just chill and have a quiet evening to myself since Nat and Sam are arriving today and I know you probably want to spend time with them. That’s today, right?”

“Yes, they just arrived, and they want to meet you. That’s why I’m asking about your social calendar for tonight.”

Bucky laughed. “I’m not exactly a social butterfly but I get by… They actually want to meet me?”

“Why so surprised? Of course, they want to meet you. They saw your images of me and that’s why they want to meet you, aside from the fact they now know we’re seeing each other.”

“Wow, okay. I’d love to meet them, too. Uh, what’s the plan for this evening?”

“Dinner is part of the plan. I have steaks so I’m going to grill them along with some asparagus and sautéd tomatoes and spinach.”

“What’s for dessert?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead. I have ice cream when I have nothing else.”

Bucky laughed. “How about I make a chocolate mint mousse? You still have that big-ass package of Oreo cookies? Or did you finish off the entire bag?”

“Very funny. The bag is still here with lots of cookies left. Why?”

“I’m going to use them as a topping for the mousse in addition to the whipped cream. Do I need to pick up some heavy cream for this?”

“I have some but you might want to pick up a carton, just in case. And bring your portfolio, I have a feeling Nat is going to want to see it.”

There was a pause. “Uh, yeah, I can bring that,” Bucky replied. He sounded mildly apprehensive.

“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly nervous,” Steve inquired.

“Maybe. Meeting her is one thing. Showing her my work is another.”

“She loved your images of me. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“The fact she loved the images doesn’t help. I don’t know if my portfolio best represents me. I’m still figuring it out. I’m a work-in-progress. Seeing it might be a letdown for her.”

“Bucky, believe me. You have nothing to worry about. Okay?” Steve wanted to reach through the phone and hug him for reassurance.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just second-guessing myself. I’ll be fine. I should be there before six. I’d like to start on the mousse while you’re grilling up the steaks.”

“I’ll let Nat and Sam know you’re coming. We’ll see you when you get here.”

• • • • •

Bucky worked through the rest of his shift trying not to obsess over the fact he was going to meet Nat, a photographer he had admired since he started art school. On top of that, he was going to meet her husband, Sam, who also happened to be Steve’s best friend. He had heard so much about them from Steve. It was exciting and a little unnerving at the same time. He wanted so much to give them a good impression.

Pulling up beside Steve’s SUV, Bucky climbed out with a grocery bag of ingredients for the chocolate mint mousse. He noticed the other car parked on the other side of the SUV. His stomach started to flutter with nerves as he climbed the steps to the front door. Steve quickly answered after Bucky gave the door three knocks.

“Hey, Buck,” he grinned, pulling him into a kiss. “Good thing I was still inside, otherwise I wouldn't have heard you knock. I should have told you to walk around to the back.” He looked down at Bucky’s hands. “Where’s your portfolio?”

“It’s under your bed. I forgot I left it here.”

Steve smiled. “At least it’s here. Come on, Nat and Sam are waiting. Did you want anything to drink?” 

“A beer would be fine. I can tell you started drinking already,” Bucky grinned. “How much do I need to drink to catch up?”

“I’ve only had two since they arrived.”

“And what time was that?”

“What time did I call you? Because I started after I talked to you.”

“You had a four-hour headstart. I would have had four during that time but then I’d be sick as a dog.”

“You’re a lightweight?”

“Maybe, but I’ve never been prone to overindulging on alcohol. It has a negative effect on me and I don’t care for it much. Where are they?”

“They’re outside. Just say hi and then you can get started on dessert. I’ll start grilling once you’re done. Are you still nervous?”

“A little,” Bucky admitted. “They’re the closest thing to family you have. I’d be more nervous if I was meeting your mother.”

“Nothing to be nervous about. They’re eager to meet you and I know Ma would have loved you.”

Steve’s confidence that there was nothing to worry about, slightly eased Bucky’s nerves.

After putting the heavy cream in the fridge and the rest of the ingredients on the kitchen counter, Steve and Bucky headed out to the backyard and found Nat sitting on a blanket. Sam was lying on his back with his head in her lap speaking quietly to her.

“Look who just arrived,” Steve announced. It was at this moment, Bucky thought he might lose his shit and freak out.

Nat and Sam looked in Steve’s direction, saw Bucky and smiled. Sam sat up and got up onto his feet while offering his hand to Nat to help her up from the ground.

Steve started the introductions. “Nat, Sam, this is Bucky. Bucky, this is Sam and Nat, my two closest friends on the planet.”

“Nice to meet the two of you,” Bucky said, reaching out to shake their hands. “Steve has mentioned you numerous times.”

“Please say they were good things,” Sam said, shaking Bucky’s hand. “But knowing that clown, he probably threw in some dumbass anecdotes about me so he doesn’t look like the only freak out of the three of us.”

“To be totally honest, we’re all a little weird, it’s the only way to get through life sometimes,” Nat chimed in. “You’re smiling at us so whatever Steve said, couldn’t be all that bad.”

“No, not bad at all,” Bucky confirmed. “And I have to say it’s a real honor to be meeting you, Nat. I’m a big fan of your work, especially the documentary stuff. Visual storytelling is very appealing to me and something I’d like to do one day.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Nat replied, smiling. “If you’d like, we can certainly talk about the genre of documentary photography. I’m at your disposal. Any questions you have, just toss them at me and I’ll do my best to answer them.”

“Wow, thank you for the offer. I’ll definitely take you up on that. But maybe after dinner? I don’t know if Steve mentioned it but I offered to make dessert this evening so I think I should get started on it before he starts grilling.”

“He did mention that,” said Nat. “Chocolate mint is my favorite sweet tooth flavour combination. Maybe we could take a look at your portfolio while you’re making dessert?”

“Yeah, sure, that would be fine. Meet me in the kitchen and I’ll grab the portfolio from the bedroom.”

Nat and Sam looked at Steve and smirked.

“What?” Steve asked. “I forgot he left it there.”

“That’s not why we’re looking at you,” Sam smiled.

“Did I say something wrong?” Bucky asked.

“No, you didn’t say anything wrong,” Nat replied. “Steve simply failed to mention how serious you two are.”

“I’m allowed to stay quiet until I think it’s time to share,” Steve stated.

“Uh, when did you find out about me?” Bucky asked.

“Today,” Nat and Sam said simultaneously.

“Oh.” Bucky wasn’t sure what else to say. “Well, he mentioned you two a couple of weeks after we met if that makes you feel any better.”

Sam laughed and Nat shook her head. 

“Rogers, I knew you were holding out on us,” Nat admonished. “Why didn’t you tell us about Bucky sooner?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I wanted to keep him to myself a little longer? I didn’t want to answer a bunch of questions without him hearing them.”

Bucky chuckled at the sight of Steve being put on the hot seat by his friends. “I’ll leave the three of you to talk it out,” Bucky chuckled. “I’ll leave the portfolio on the kitchen table.”

• • • • •

Nat and Sam stood around the kitchen table, reviewing Bucky’s images, taking their time as they examined each image. Bucky could see they were deep in discussion over his images. He made a point of focusing on the mousse instead of constantly looking in their direction. 

“These images are lovely, Bucky,” Nat called out above the sound of the mixer whipping together all of the ingredients. “You have a solid selection of images that gives a hint to your range and interests. Not bad for a first portfolio.” 

She and Sam continued to browse through his images.

Bucky smiled. “Thanks. That’s kind of you to say.”

Steve walked in from outside. He stopped next to Bucky.

“How’s it going?” he asked quietly, his hand resting on the small of Bucky’s back. It was a move that instantly calmed Bucky.

“It would go better if I could actually concentrate on making the mousse,” he replied, the sound of the mixer masking his response from Nat and Sam.

Steve smiled sympathetically. “Have they said anything?”

“She likes what she sees. She said I have a solid portfolio.”

“See? What did I tell you? Nothing to worry about.”

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. But I still can’t believe we’re under the same roof and that all of you are friends. It’s a little mind-boggling.”

“Mind-boggling? Why? Because you’ve met someone who’s work you admire and they like your work too? Or because you’re dating someone who’s kinda famous?” Steve offered a cheesy grin at the last question. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Yes to the first question and no to the second; even after I found out who you were, I never thought of you as someone famous. I always saw you and will always see you as someone who is unbeliveably fucking hot and for some reason chose me as someone worth hanging out with.”

Steve kissed the tip of his nose. “You’re not just someone to hang out with, Buck, and you know it.” He peered into the mixing bowl. “That smells great. I can’t wait to take a bite of it.”

“Thanks. It’ll be a great way to end the meal.” Bucky switched off the mixer once he determined the mousse was the right consistency.

“The barbeque is heating up so I’m gonna start grilling soon,” said Steve as he grabbed the steaks and the vegetables from the fridge.

“You’re starting up the grill? Want some help?” Sam asked. 

“You know I could always use an extra pair of hands when it comes to cooking this much food,” Steve quipped. “You know the drill.”

“I do. I flip the meat while you work the vegetables.”

Steve chuckled. “You got it.”

After Steve and Sam left to start dinner, Bucky started spooning the mousse into glasses.

“Those are whisky glasses, are they not?” Nat asked, looking up from the images.

“Yeah, they are,” he replied. “He doesn’t have any dessert dishes so whisky tumblers will have to do.”

“Steve is pretty pedestrian when it comes to dinnerware,” Nat admitted. “He’s not one for gravy boats or carafes.”

“But he does like his pots and pans, and his French press.”

“That he does. With regards to your portfolio, I’d like to add that you’re very attuned to the contrasts between light and shadows.”

“Thanks. Sometimes I wonder if I just don’t get the tonal subtleties. Maybe I haven’t developed an understanding and appreciation for that yet.”

“That might be true,” said Nat. “I think it speaks more about the creator/viewer and their experiences with it. I know people who find contrasts striking but would never create it or have something like that hanging on their wall. Just so you know, I have a thing for film grain. What film are you using?”

“I use Agfa APX 100. I love the range it has in capturing blacks, whites and everything in between.”

“What about darkroom chemistry?”

“Ilford. I had heard a lot of good things about Agfa’s photographic chemistry and I would have gone all Agfa if they hadn’t discontinued their darkroom products. Sometimes I think I’m on borrowed time when it comes to shooting with film or being in the darkroom but as long as I can get my hands on Agfa film, and darkroom supplies are available, I’ll stick with film.”

“I hear Adox is a good black and white film; apparently, it’s comparable to Agfa. I’ve even heard murmurings that the films are practically identical. Adox is something you could experiment with,” Nat suggested. 

Bucky hadn’t realized until this moment that he missed talking shop with someone who shared the same vocabulary.

“You know, it’s nice talking about photography with someone other than Steve or my classmates,” he remarked.

“It is,” she smiled. “Sam knows enough to know what I’m talking about and keep the conversation going. I know Steve is the same way. But it definitely is much better nerding out with someone who knows their way around a camera and a darkroom.”

“Do you do any darkroom processing or shoot film?”

“I used to shoot with film. I do more digitally now but if a project is better suited to be shot on film, I’ll go that route. What camera are you using?”

“Nikon FM2.”

“Excellent camera. One hell of a workhorse. Mine is an FM2, as well.”

Bucky smiled. “At least, there won’t be a war of words over which make of camera is superior.”

“Definitely, one less thing to bitch about. Do you have a digital camera?”

“I do. It’s an older Fuji model that I got second-hand. It works for the type of images I need to capture if I have to go digital; it’s not lacking in anything at the moment. As it stands, I don’t have enough extra funds to outfit myself with a new camera body and a couple of lenses. It’s a little too rich for my blood right now.”

“When you get to the point where you’ve saved up enough cash and are able to seriously start looking, I can give you some advice on some of the cameras that are out there and maybe get you a couple of leads on where you can pick up a camera and a couple of lenses for a fair price.”

“That would be awesome and really appreciated,” Bucky replied. “But it might be awhile before I can take you up on your offer.”

“You know where to find me,” she smiled. “I’d like very much to talk to you about your images. I’m curious about some of them. Perhaps after dinner? I just want to add you have a strong eye for composition. You have such good instincts about what you like. I know you’re just starting out but I can’t wait to see where you’ll be five, ten years from now.”

Bucky could feel his cheeks burning at Nat’s compliments and her genuine interest in his work. “Uhm, thank you.” He turned to put the mousse into the fridge to chill.

She studied him for a moment. “You’re not used to compliments, are you? Steve is like that, too.”

“No, I’m not. It’s just that I haven’t finished my degree yet. And once I have it, it doesn’t mean I’m going to instantly start making a living with it. I’ll have student debt to pay down and bills to cover. Your compliments are great but— ”

“It’s not going to put money in the bank,” Nat added. “I know. I’ve been there. But you have Steve and it looks like he’ll be by your side as you move from academia to being a responsible adult and tax-paying citizen.”

Bucky laughed. “Yeah, it looks like Steve’s in it for the long haul.”

“Are you in it for the long haul?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Steve has been much more like his old self since you came into his life.”

“Good to know I’m having a positive effect on him.”

“You certainly have. But getting back to your work, I also wanted to say that you have tons of potential. I’m impressed with the quality of the prints. Your darkroom skills are impeccable.”

“I still have a lot of growth to do as a photographer though. The real world is very fucking different from the academic world.”

“That’s very true. Of course, you’re going to be figuring out who you are as a photographer, but you have the tools to succeed. There’s no need to be modest, Bucky,” Nat gently chided. “I love that you’re doing part of your thesis with black and white film. Steve told me what your thesis topic is. It’s a very interesting question to tackle.”

“It is. It seems like an easy question to answer but you can easily fall into a rabbit hole trying to answer it. Do you have an opinion on the question?”

“As much as I want to say photography is art, photography is a lot of things. I think it’s more than just art or entertainment. I think photography is information. And I think I’ll leave it at that for you to chew on.” Nat paused. “Have I screwed up your thesis by saying that?”

“No, you haven’t. That’s how I’ve been looking at the question lately.”

“You’re planning to finish your degree this coming year, right?”

“Yeah, my plan is to be done by Spring. I started halfway through last year just doing research. A lot of the thesis will be visual. I have been working on the paper, however I’m not sure how long it will be. It certainly won’t be two hundred pages; I think it will fall well below that. I guess I’ll write until I’m done saying what I have to say.”

“Do you have an idea when the written portion will be done?”

“I’m planning to finish the first draft before Christmas so I can start editing and revising in the new year.”

“If you ever need a pair of fresh eyes to read your paper, I’d be willing to take a look.”

Bucky stared and blinked at her, surprised at the generous offer. “I… I, wow. It’s not necessary to make such a generous offer. You have no idea how much I appreciate it, but I can’t really take you up on that.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, we just met today.”

“And that is entirely Steve’s fault for not mentioning you earlier. Now, Sam and I have to start getting acquainted with you. Do you have a mentor?”

“Did Steve put you up to this?”

“No. Why?”

“He mentioned that you would make a great mentor for me and all I had to do was ask.”

“Well, he’s right. I would be a great mentor for you. How about it?”

“Have you ever mentored anyone before?”

“No, but then no one has ever asked me.”

“Why are you making the offer?”

“Because when I look at your images you remind me of me when I was in school. You’re ridiculously talented. And I know that you’re aware you need more than just talent to get to where you want to be. That holds true in any industry. I had a little help from my mentor. He was a grouchy son of a bitch and a badass professor but he was a real softy underneath all of that gruff.”

“Who was that?”

“Nicholas Fury.”

“The same Fury who covered conflicts in Nicaragua and Latin America?”

“The one and only. Until he lost his eye which prematurely ended his days as a war photographer. He gave me a lot of guidance and some words of wisdom. I’ve always wanted to pay him back by passing along his knowledge to a new crop of photographers. Mentoring is the only way to do that without setting foot in a classroom. I’d like to help you. It also doesn’t hurt that Steve is more than a little smitten with you. But he’s not the reason I’d like to mentor you.”

“Is that where you got your visual storytelling chops from? From Fury?”

“Yes, he is a huge reason my career is where it is today.” 

Bucky paused for a second. This was an exciting opportunity he couldn’t turn down. To have someone of Nat’s calibre and talent as a friend, guide, and sounding board during his final year and probably beyond, was something he hadn’t thought about or even dared to dream about. He smiled. “I would be embarrassingly honored if you would be my mentor.”

Nat grinned. “Wonderful. Let’s join the boys outside and tell them the news.”

• • • • •

“Oh my god, that was delicious,” Sam groaned after shoving the last bit of chocolate mint mousse into his mouth. “The Oreo crumbs were the perfect finishing touch. Did you get all your cooking skills from your mother?”

“I did, indeed.”

“Before we head back home, Nat and I are gonna have to drop by the diner and indulge ourselves with some of her cooking.”

“Her food is the best home cooking you’ll find anywhere in the midwest,” Steve chimed in, sticking his finger in the glass to swipe up the last remains of the mousse. “I’ve been a regular there since I moved out here. You can’t go wrong with anything on the menu.” 

“I think you should invite us out for lunch at the diner, Steve,” Sam suggested with a smirk. “I understand you know the owner very well, and the owner’s son even better,” he teased.

“I do,” Steve said smugly. “Bucky’s mom even has me taste-testing new dishes she’s thinking of adding to the menu.”

Nat stared at Steve. Bucky couldn’t tell if she was mad or jealous. Maybe she was both.

“Bastard,” she said. “That’s a pretty sweet side gig.”

“No wonder you’re not coming back to New York,” Sam smiled. “Can’t say I blame you.”

This was the first time Bucky had heard any discussion of Steve and the idea of heading back to New York. He knew Steve didn’t have immediate plans to go back to New York since he was making plans to build a root cellar and set up another raised box garden next year. Still, it unsettled him a little bit.

“I’m not getting paid to do it,” Steve noted. “Unless you consider the food payment. As for New York, I can’t see myself settling back there unless it’s for a good reason and I can’t think of one right now. I can do whatever I need to do from here.”

“This food tasting gig,” Nat cut in. “Did it come up before or after you and Bucky started dating?”

Steve thought for a moment. “I’d say at the same time.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You and Bucky only met back in May?” she asked. “I don’t understand how it’s taken this long for you two to meet.”

“Timing, I guess,” Bucky answered, shrugging his shoulders. “I spent my Summers in Chicago once I started my degree and I didn’t start waiting tables until this Summer. I think we met a couple of weeks after I came back and started working at the diner again.”

“Well, I definitely want to go to the diner and meet your mother,” Nat announced. “I’d like to ask her how Steve finagled himself into becoming her food taster. I’m annoyed that I’m envious of this fact.”

Everyone chuckled at the admission. 

“We could go there tomorrow,” Bucky offered. “I’ll introduce you to my sister and mother. They would love to meet more of Steve’s friends.”

“Aren’t you working tomorrow?” Steve asked.

“The day after,” Bucky clarified.

“So, then you’re spending the night here?” Steve sounded hopeful. Judging by their grins, it didn’t go unnoticed by Nat and Sam either.

“Yeah, I can spend the night,” Bucky replied, grinning. “I’ll text Becca so she knows where I am.”

“Do we need to put in our earplugs tonight?” Sam teased.

“I think it’s more like Bucky and I should put in our earplugs tonight,” Steve grinned.

“I think there’s enough distance between the rooms that earplugs won’t be required,” Nat noted. “Come on, Rogers, let’s clear the table. I’ll help you with dishes. I think Sam and Bucky should get acquainted.”

Both Bucky and Sam watched Steve and Nat disappear into the house with the dirty dishes.

“You made quite the impression on Nat,” Sam started. “It takes a lot to impress her, and I’m speaking from professional and personal experience. What are your plans after you graduate?”

“I’d love to make a living from photography but I know it won’t be easy. So, with my minor in architecture, I’m thinking of using it to get into theatre or film set design. It could give me some flexibility to pursue photographic work but I won’t know for sure how successful I can juggle the two until I’m in the middle of it.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to know until you start trying,” Sam agreed. “I like your approach. How are you going to get your foot in the door with the theatre work?”

“I have a couple of friends who are in the Chicago theatre scene. They know some folks who could help me find some work, maybe apprentice with someone and go from there. It won’t be a lot of money but it would be a start.”

Sam paused for a moment. “I know this probably isn’t on your radar but I was wondering if you ever thought about having an art agent represent you?”

“Steve mentioned it when he was telling me about you. But I never saw myself getting one.”

“Why not? It wouldn’t be something to worry about right now, but something to think about in the future. Look, I’m offering to represent you after you graduate and when you’re ready to have representation. You have a shit ton of talent which I know Nat has told you already so I won’t harp on that and make you uncomfortable. Honestly, I’d like to help you reach whatever goal you have for your work.”

Bucky stared wide-eyed in astonishment at Sam. He thought his head was going to explode from Nat and Sam’s generosity. 

“You looked stunned,” Sam observed with a smile. 

“Well, yeah, I’m not gonna lie; I am,” Bucky confirmed. “I love the idea of having an agent but yeah, I’d definitely have to wait to think about it after I graduate and put together a better portfolio. I’d really like to be good enough to warrant having your services.”

“I didn’t mean to overwhelm you, Bucky. By all means, put together a better portfolio if you want, but focus on your thesis and any projects you’ve lined up for yourself first. From all of that, you’ll have lots of images to choose from to add to your portfolio. Just keep learning and developing that eye of yours. You’ll have a portfolio worthy of catching anybody’s attention without any extra effort.”

Sam pulled out a card from his shirt pocket and handed it over to Bucky.

“I’m putting my offer on the table and there’s no expiry date on it. When you’re ready to give me an answer, call me.” 

Bucky took a deep breath. “I have to admit Nat’s offer to be a mentor and your offer to represent me is more than I expected when Steve invited me over tonight. I was only expecting to meet you and to get to know you better because you're Steve’s closest friends. I wasn’t expecting your generous offers at all. I’m blown away.”

“Just to be clear, Nat and I didn’t present these opportunities to you because you’re dating Steve,” said Sam. “And Steve didn’t ask us to give you our support. He’s not that kind of guy. We offered what we offered because we see something special in the way you see the world.”

“He likes to lead a horse to water but doesn’t make it drink,” said Bucky. 

“Correct. He likes to help people connect with who he thinks are the right people. He nudges, never pushes.”

“Was that what he did when he introduced you to Nat?”

Sam smiled as if he was recalling the moment he met his wife.

“Yes, that sly dog thought we would make a great couple. He was right. Steve is a hopeless romantic and he saw something in me and Nat that made him think that we would react the same way gasoline and fire would react to each other.”

“That sounds kind of dangerous. He wasn’t worried his matchmaking attempts would blow up in his face and result in having both you and Nat mad at him if things ended badly?”

“He takes calculated risks, but sometimes he’s recklessly confident that something will work. Nat and I were not calculated risks, and we love him for it.”

“Would you say he’s still recklessly confident now?”

“He’s mellowed but depending on what’s caught his attention, he can still be reckless. He falls somewhere between calculated and reckless. I’d say he’s more thoughtful now. Are you wondering where you fall on his spectrum of impulsiveness?”

“A little. It was an instant attraction for both of us. We seem to take turns being impulsive. But I think he’s more careful with me than he has been in past relationships. I guess that’s a good thing. I’m not getting mixed signals from him about anything. Sometimes he’s a little unpredictable, but in a good way. Before him, my love life wasn’t anything to brag about. But I’ve had enough encounters to know Steve is different. He’s so much better than anybody before him. Everything is so right with him that it scares me.” Bucky paused for a moment. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Sam smiled knowingly. “Hey, it’s perfectly fine. And just between the two of us, Steve rambles on about you, too.”

“He does?”

“I don’t know why you’re surprised by that. After we saw your pictures of Steve, we asked questions about you. He answered most of them but spent most of the time looking like and sounding like a lovesick fool. The man could not say enough good things about you.”

“I think he was being awfully biased,” Bucky said, well aware his cheeks were turning horribly pink for the umpteenth time this evening.

“Maybe. But he wasn’t wrong about your talent. Even though he’s looking at you through the lens of love, he could see how talented you are. He’s never let those lines blur. In the time that I’ve known him — that’s a really fucking long time — he’s never met anyone who can turn him into a babbling fool like you can. You two are falling in love. That’s as obvious as the steak sauce stain on your shirt.”

Bucky looked down to find that there were indeed remnants of dinner on his shirt. He grabbed his dirty napkin to try minimize its appearance.

“Thanks for pointing it out,” Bucky groaned. “This is my favorite shirt.”

“If you have one of those stain-removing sticks, that should do the trick. Nat has one because apparently I’m a messy carnivore.”

Bucky chuckled. “So how long have you been an art agent?”

“I’m going into my eighth year. Steve came to me six months after I started up.”

“So you know everything that happened with Pierce.”

“Yeah, I do. That dude is a megalomaniac. I’m glad Steve cut ties with him. He reached out to me and asked me if I could represent him. I told him I wasn’t experienced and didn’t have the connections that Pierce had. He said he didn’t care about that. He said I was a good man and a better friend. He said having him as a client was going to raise my profile substantially. I didn’t doubt that for one second. Some of Pierce’s clients ended up cutting ties with him, too, and came to me. Some of the stories they told me… What a Goddamn asshole that guy was.”

“Do you enjoy what you’re doing?”

“I do. I love it,” Sam replied. “I have my fingers in other things to keep the streams of revenue open. I love the clients I have.They’re great artists and good people. I’m very blessed.”

“So who was your first client?”

“Nat. We had been married a year at that point and she was running her business and hustling to get assignments. It was getting harder for her to juggle all that and be a newlywed so I offered to help her with the business side of things and it grew into what I have now. I added her name to the business as a partner but I basically run it myself.”

Bucky noticed the sun was dropping into the horizon and night was rapidly descending upon them. “I think we better head inside. They’re gonna wonder why we haven’t noticed it’s getting dark.”

“We should. I’m betting Steve is thinking about breaking out one of his bottles of whisky. I’m not missing a chance to taste the good stuff.”

• • • • •

Steve stepped out of the bathroom, with a towel wrapped around his waist while he used another towel to dry his hair. Bucky had already showered and made himself comfortable in bed. Wearing one of Steve’s Columbia University t-shirts, he was relaxed and thumbing through a book on Ruth Bernhard’s photographic study of the female nude.

Steve smiled fondly at the simplicity of the moment. This was something he was quickly craving and wanted more of. After pulling on a pair of thin cotton pyjama bottoms, he climbed into bed seating himself shoulder-to-shoulder with Bucky.

“Interesting book?” he asked.

“Very interesting,” Bucky replied. “I had forgotten how brilliant she is.”

“Tired yet? It’s been a long day, especially for you.”

“I might be overtired. I think I’m still running on adrenaline. A good sleep should fix it. I’m really glad I met Sam and Nat. They’re so cool. I learned so much from talking to them this evening. Have they settled in?”

“Yeah, they’re settled in,” Steve replied. “I’m sure they’ll be sleeping in until mid-morning. I’m happy that you enjoyed yourself.”

“I can’t believe I now have Nat as a mentor and Sam wants to be my agent once I feel I’m ready to go that route.”

“They’re great human beings,” Steve agreed. “You can’t ever go wrong if they’re in your corner.”

Bucky placed the book on the floor beside the bed, pressed himself against Steve and kissed him. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Thanks for dessert. It was a huge hit with the house guests. And thanks for spending the night.”

“You just want a warm body in your bed.” Bucky snuggled closer, burying his nose into the crook of Steve’s neck.

“You’re more than just a warm body, Buck,” Steve corrected. “I think you know that.” 

Bucky yawned and hummed his agreement.

Steve was happy to have Bucky all to himself. Once Sam and Bucky walked back into the house, it was another couple of hours of conversation about everything under the sun. 

As much as Steve loved Sam and Nat, he would have loved to shoo them to their room sooner. He didn’t though, as it was their first night and they wanted to meet Bucky. It was worth restraining himself though, it thrilled him to see how much they liked Bucky and how well they got along with him. 

The best Steve could do was sit beside him with their knees touching. Maybe he was being proprietary; he certainly didn’t mean to be. He simply craved some form of physical contact with Bucky. He was starting to think that maybe physical contact with Bucky grounded him in some way. With Bucky snuggled in his arms, Steve was certainly feeling calm.

Bucky yawned again. Steve smiled to himself, as he reached over to turn off the lamp.


	12. Early mornings and afternoon baths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky discuss navigating their relationship when Bucky goes back to Chicago. Sam and Nat meet Becca and Winnie. And Steve gets the opportunity to photograph Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday, folks! Welcome to the next instalment. Three more chapters to go after this. Thank you again for the comments and your enthusiasm. Middi and I appreciate it so much. Enjoy the chapter and see you all on Friday when the next chapter goes up.

A cool soothing early morning breeze gently blew in from the open bedroom window. It brought with it the scent of Summer – dew-covered green grass and wildflowers.

Steve was awake, indulging himself by watching Bucky sleep. His lover was lying on his stomach, his head turned in Steve’s direction. Several minutes were spent looking at the serene expression on his face. Steve gazed at Bucky’s features: his eyelashes, his nose, his jawline, and his lips. He wanted to kiss those inviting lips.

His eyes traveled over to Bucky’s back. Smooth skin waited to be touched. Steve lightly ran his hand along Bucky’s spine. Bucky sighed, gripping the pillow a little tighter as he continued to sleep. Steve reached down to the dip of Bucky’s back, letting his hand rest for a moment before deciding what his next move would be. 

Sliding his hand underneath the sheet, he ran the palm of his hand over the dimples above Bucky’s ass cheeks and over the curve of those cheeks. He wanted to slide a finger between them but hesitated. He wanted Bucky to be awake and aware of what Steve was doing. He pulled his hand away.

“What are you doing?” Bucky mumbled.

“Just admiring the person sleeping next to me.”

Bucky smiled lazily. “I know that. I’m just wondering why you stopped touching me. I was enjoying it.”

Steve shrugged. “I didn’t want to do anything else while you were sleeping without your consent.”

Bucky blinked his eyes open. “I appreciate you thinking about my consent, but I’d like to think that since we’re sharing the same space and bed, you would know you already have my permission.”

“It’s too easy to assume that. I just wanted to respect what we have and not overstep any boundaries.”

“If there are any boundaries that you’ve overstepped, I’ll let you know. And you do the same, okay?”

“Okay, I will.” Steve wondered how the hell Bucky could be so perfect.

“Wonderful,” Bucky grinned. “You have my permission to wake me up in any way you see fit, especially if it comes in the form of a blow job or some other equally agreeable activity you have in mind.”

Steve slid his hand over Bucky’s firm butt cheeks again, relishing the softness of his skin and the firmness of his flesh.

“I have a couple of ideas,” Steve whispered. “But you’ll have to be quiet. Sam and Nat are still sleeping.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s around 6:30.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope, why would I do that?”

“Because you can be a punk.”

“Go back to sleep and let me do the work.”

“There’s no fucking way I’ll be able to sleep with you all over me.”

“Nah, you’ll sleep… after I’m done with you.” Steve slid two fingers between Bucky’s cheeks, quickly finding what he was looking for. Bucky gasped at the fingers grazing over his entrance.

“Steve,” he whined.

“Yes?”

“Are you shittin’ me?” he hissed quietly. “I can’t go back to sleep with you doing that.”

“Just relax.” He kissed the small of Bucky’s back. “I’m gonna take it nice and slow.”

Bucky growled into his pillow. “Fine,” he said with an air of petulance, and made a show of trying to relax. It only made Steve chuckle. 

“I need you to stick your ass up in the air for a second,” Steve requested.

“Why?”

“So, I can shove a pillow under your hips. I need you to be slightly elevated.” 

After grabbing his pillow and placing it under Bucky, Steve didn’t waste any time parting Bucky’s thighs wide enough to situate himself comfortably between them. Running his hands along Bucky’s spine, he made a point of making sure Bucky relaxed under his touch. Bucky sighed contentedly.

Steve kissed each cheek before parting them and running his tongue over the puckered muscle. Bucky groaned as his body tensed at the sensation.

“Steve…”

“Shh, we need to be quiet.”

Bucky was still warm from sleep. His skin carried the scent of Steve’s body wash. Steve continued to lick him open and it didn’t take long for Bucky to relax again. Grabbing a condom and a new bottle of lube from the nightstand drawer, Steve made quick work of putting it on and coating his cock with the liquid. He easily slid into Bucky, listening to him sigh contentedly.

Steve moved slow and steady. Each thrust was deep and meant to elicit sounds of pleasure from Bucky. It got to the point that Bucky wanted to wriggle and push back, wanting more from Steve. But Steve pinned down his hips, shushing him.

“I said I’d take care of you,” Steve reminded him again. “You’ll get what you need. Don’t worry.”

“But what if I want to go back to sleep and I want you to hurry it up?”

Steve laughed quietly, continuing to slowly fuck his lover. “That’s a poor excuse. You’ve never been one to want to rush things. Not seriously anyway… You feel so good. I’d fuck you like this all day if I didn’t have house guests.”

“Steve, don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m sure I’d come just thinking about it.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Bucky’s voice was colored with want and need.

“Maybe we should test that.”

“If that means you pulling out, I’m not interested.”

“So you’re amending the fact you’d come just thinking about what I’m doing to you right now? You’re saying you wouldn’t be able to because you need the stimulation?”

Steve slowly thrusted into Bucky several more times before the man could vocalize an answer.

“Maybe later?” Bucky gasped. “I need be fucked a few more times before I can viscerally remember how good you feel so I can come just thinking about you.”

“How can you sound lucid while I’m inside you? I think I need to do better.”

“I babble,” Bucky clarified. “Just because it sounds lucid doesn’t mean it is.”

“I need you to babble incoherently, Buck.”

“You can try. I don’t know how well that will work.” Bucky sighed again.

It sounded very much like Bucky was daring him to put him into a sexual haze. Steve hummed, liking the idea of pleasuring Bucky until he couldn’t think straight anymore. He bent down to kiss the nape of his neck. “Challenge accepted,” he grinned into Bucky’s skin.

• • • • •

Bucky gasped at the lightness of Steve’s fingers dancing down his spine. They electrified his skin. As he attempted to push himself up onto his elbows, Steve stilled him.

“What are you doing, Buck?” he asked tenderly.

“You’re making it hard for me to lie still.”

“You didn’t like my fingers moving across your back?”

“I love what your fingers are doing,” Bucky replied, squirming. “But I don’t know how I can relax with you feeling so good inside me right now.”

“You want to be more participatory?” Steve kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe.” Bucky was itching to touch Steve. “I just want to see you, that’s all.”

Steve paused and pulled out. “Okay, on your back. But we’re still going slow. I set the pace.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Bucky smiled as he flopped onto his back.

“I have to wonder sometimes,” Steve smirked. “You’re good with the tease and follow through, but you can be a little greedy.”

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Bucky countered. “You’re pretty greedy too.”

“We are who we are,” said Steve. “Can’t really fight against that. You don’t have to keep your hands to yourself, but they’re either on the bed or on me. You’re not to touch yourself.”

Now, fully awake, Bucky pouted for a second at the idea of not pleasuring himself while Steve filled his ass with his dick. “Fine. Deal.” Bringing his knees on either side of his chest, he exposed himself to let Steve know he had to get back at it before Sam and Nat woke up.

Steve glanced down at him and smiled. “Hungry, are we?”

“What makes you think that?” Bucky grinned. “I’m just saying we should get to it before your house guests wake up and demand to be fed.”

“Oh, I see. Feed you first?”

“You’re getting fed, too. It’s not just about me. This is a mutually beneficial endeavour we’re undertaking.”

“You talk too much.” Steve tightened his grip around Bucky’s hips.

“Then find a way to make me shut up.”

Steve arched an eyebrow. “Sassy so early in the morning.”

“Because you woke me up.”

Without any warning, Steve swiftly buried himself inside Bucky, making the younger man gasp in surprise. A hot mouth covered Bucky’s lips as he groaned loudly. He grabbed onto Steve’s shoulders, his fingers digging in as Steve rocked their hips to and fro.

“Shh,” Steve whispered, peppering kisses along Bucky’s jawline. “I have to admit this is better having you underneath me like this.” Bucky whined quietly, feeling the heft of Steve’s cock inside him. “Facing each other so I can kiss you and bite you while I fuck you,” he purred, rubbing his beard along Bucky’s exposed throat like a cat marking its territory. 

“I think I need an entire day to mark you, eat you and fuck you. God, when you’re like this, all I can think about is being inside you and filling you up with cum. Would you like that? Hmm? Fill your ass with cum and then eat it out of you?”

The suggestion sent shivers down Bucky’s spine and made his cock twitch helplessly. 

“Oh, God, fuck yes, please,” he begged. “One day. Definitely.”

Steve chuckled before leaving a bruise at the base of Bucky’s neck.

Closing his eyes, Bucky savoured all the sensations Steve was offering him. The heated scent of musk, wood, and a touch of pine floated off Steve’s skin and tickled Bucky’s nose. The weight of Steve’s body pressed urgently yet protectively against his own. The sound of birds singing mingled with the sounds of their quiet groans and muffled vocalizations.

While the cool breeze coming through the open window did provide a bit of relief from the warmth generated by the bedroom’s two occupants, it wasn’t enough to offset the friction of damp skin between their bodies.

“Open your eyes and look at me, Buck,” Steve requested.

Bucky opened his eyes to find how dark Steve’s blues eyes had become. He was captivated by the desire they were expressing.

“I just want to see your eyes, Buck,” he whispered. “They’re so beautiful. It’s like they can see right into my soul.”

“I feel the same way about you,” Bucky panted his reply. “Kiss me… please.”

Within a split second, Steve kissed him. He eagerly shoved his tongue into Bucky’s mouth, tasting everything that was being offered to him. Bucky tightened his legs around Steve’s waist. He wriggled, wanting Steve to fuck him harder and deeper. Steve pulled back and pressed his lips against Bucky’s left ear.

“Remember what I said, Buck?” he growled.

“You’re setting the pace,” he replied, ceasing his squirming.

“That’s correct. Do you need me to pin you down? I have no problem doing that if it will keep you still.”

Bucky did like the idea of having Steve pin him down. He was vocal at times, and couldn’t sit or lie still when it came to sex. It didn’t matter if it was 6:30 in the morning or 6:30 in the evening, he needed to move in order to take.

“I just need to let you do what you want to do,” he said. “If you have to pin me down, pin me down. I love it, to be honest.”

“That’s because you’re a brat.”

“Well, I am the baby in the Barnes family. But honestly, I love your weight pressing down on me. It kinda makes me feel safe.”

“Like a weighted blanket?”

“Something like that.”

Steve smiled. “I’m your security blanket, like Linus’ blanket in The Peanuts comics?”

Bucky laughed. “Since you put it that way, maybe you are.”

Steve pushed himself up, placing his hands firmly on Bucky’s hips and adjusted the angle of their positions. With his hands on Steve’s forearms, Bucky sighed at the adjustment. He loved having Steve loom over him. The ambient morning light reflected softly off his skin and hair. He thought the beard looked very inviting in this light; he wanted to run his fingers through it.

Bucky mewled and Steve groaned as he resumed thrusting his hips against him. The tip of Steve’s cock brushing over his prostate had Bucky gasping and wanting to cry out. He gritted his teeth and scrunched his eyes closed.

“Bucky, look at me.” Steve’s voice had somehow become more gravelly, and Bucky wanted to melt at the sound. He opened his eyes.

“You’re fighting it, aren’t you?”

He nodded.

“Relax, Buck,” he soothed. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

Bucky gasped as he nodded again, trying to relax.

Steve chuckled. “Can you speak?”

His throat was tight. Bucky knew if he opened his mouth, he would cry out incoherently. He shook his head. No.

Steve smiled kindly at him. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around Bucky’s hard cock. Its head was shiny with pre-cum. Bucky panted hard at the feel of Steve’s slightly calloused hand, ready to stroke him. He whimpered at the thought of being overwhelmed by everything Steve was throwing at him. He was so hungry for it.

“You look like you’re going to lose it,” Steve said gently with a smile. “I’m only holding you in my hand, Buck,” he teased, caressing the head with his thumb.

Bucky took several deep breaths before he dared to say anything. 

“You know I’m this close to losing it,” he said tightly. “You’re gonna kill me. Explain that to Sam and Nat when they find my dead body.”

“That’s over-dramatic, Buck.” Steve paused and closed his eyes. “God, I can feel you tighten around me. You feel so good,” he cooed, his thrusts becoming more forceful. “Just breathe. Focus. Breathe with me, Buck.”

Bucky gripped the bed sheets as he watched, listened, and matched his breathing with Steve’s. He felt Steve’s balls press up against his ass with every thrust. He tried to ignore how his entire body wanted to contract into a tight ball and explode. Everything was so visceral, so tactile, so overwhelming.

A calloused hand moved leisurely up and down along the length of his cock. Bucky sobbed at how exquisite it felt. He didn’t want Steve to stop. Ever.

“Are you going to come?” Steve asked. His voice was low and strained. Bucky knew he was close, too.

“Yeah. Kiss me?”

“Of course.”

Bucky whined at the loss after Steve released his grip on his cock. But he wasn’t left with much time to pout as Steve quickly captured his mouth and kissed him. Bucky eagerly sucked on Steve’s tongue as their hips rocked with more controlled vigor.

“Let go, Bucky,” Steve rasped. “Come and I’ll follow you. I’m not far behind.”

All Bucky could do was whine and grunt. They kissed for another minute before Bucky gasped into Steve’s mouth and came. His cries were muffled by Steve’s mouth. His entire body stiffened for several seconds before it went boneless. Steve’s lips left him. Bucky watched those lips form a perfect ‘o’ as Steve chased after his orgasm. His hips began to lose their steady rhythm. They began to jerk. He buried his face into Bucky’s shoulder as he came, stifling the howl he so clearly wanted to make. Seconds later his body went boneless as well.

Steve slowly rolled onto his back, tossed the used condom into the wastebasket, and pulled Bucky into an embrace. With his head on Steve’s chest, Bucky listened to his heartbeat for a couple of minutes. They were sweaty and blissfully content. Steve’s eyes were closed when Bucky raised his head to look at him. He kissed Steve.

“Good morning,” he smiled. “I don’t think we said that to each other yet.”

Steve opened his eyes. 

“Taking a post-coital nap?” Bucky smirked.

“Good morning,” Steve replied. “And I was just resting my eyes.”

“So, you didn’t wear yourself out?”

“No. I’m just resting my eyes.”

Bucky chuckled. “Come on, get up and let’s clean up.”

“What does that entail?”

“A shower for two.”

“Yeah, I can go for that.”

• • • • •

Steve walked out into the backyard, hair still damp and wearing long shorts and a t-shirt, carrying two mugs of coffee. He spotted Bucky standing next to the raised garden box, examining the slowly burgeoning group of tomato and zucchini plants.

“Here you go,” Steve announced, handing one of the mugs over to Bucky. “I didn’t hear anything out of Sam and Nat’s room. They’ll probably be asleep for another hour.”

“Thanks. Good thing we didn’t wake them,” Bucky smirked. “I see everything is growing nicely.”

“Yeah, the irrigation drip system is making a big difference,” Steve agreed. “It looks like it’s going to be the best crop I’ve grown since I moved here. I’m glad I saw your mother’s garden. I’m pretty excited about the harvest this October.”

A minute had passed before Steve wondered why Bucky hadn’t said anything. He glanced at Bucky to find him deep in thought as he absent-mindedly sipped his coffee.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about getting ready to go back to Chicago.”

“I see.” Steve knew Bucky was going to bring the subject up eventually.

“How do we do this while I’m away?”

“Finishing your degree is the most important thing to focus on, Buck. I’m still going to be here. I ain’t going anywhere.”

“But you’re important, too. You’re important to me.”

Steve felt his heart beat a little faster and his throat tighten with emotion at the meaning behind Bucky’s words.

“You’re important to me, too, Buck. You’ll be busy. Once the academic year starts, you’ll be in the thick of it. I’m not that far away. You know you can text, call or do video chats.”

“I know. I’m dreading the moment I start missing you.”

Steve pulled him into a hug. “I’m right here. Don’t start missing me when I’m standing right here. It’s still July.”

“August is around the corner and at the end of August I head back to Chicago.”

“How about we drive out to Chicago in a two-car convoy so I can help you settle back into your apartment?”

“That sounds alright. I live off-campus. It’s only a fifteen-minutes bus ride from the school. There’s guest parking so you don’t have to park on the street. I just have to let the building superintendent know how long you’ll be there ahead of time. I don’t have a ton to pack. Just clothes and my camera gear. The apartment is furnished so I never had to think about buying furniture.”

“I could drive up on weekends to keep you company,” Steve offered. “As long as I’m not interrupting anything associated with your thesis. It doesn’t have to be every weekend. Maybe every other weekend?”

The idea was as much for Steve as it was for Bucky. He didn’t think he could survive on text messages and video chats alone. He wasn’t willing to wait until Thanksgiving or Christmas to have Bucky in his arms again.

“I like that idea a lot,” Bucky replied. “Would you need to know by Thursday night, for example, whether or not the weekend is open to a visit?”

“If that works for you, yeah. I’ll just have a duffle bag packed and ready to go anytime.”

Bucky laughed into his shoulder. “You sound like you’re on-call like a doctor or something. It’s not a dire emergency. I’ll survive.”

“I’m looking out for your mental well-being, Buck.”

“It’s also about your mental well-being, too. Am I wrong in that assumption?”

“No, you’re not. We’ll figure it out. But the most important thing is you finishing your thesis and getting that degree.”

“I know. I’m going to get that degree,” Bucky said with certainty. 

“Atta boy, that’s the spirit. And since you’re leaving at the end of August, would you be up for another modeling session? After Sam and Nat go back to New York, of course.”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

The sound of a door opening caught their attention. Turning their heads, Steve and Bucky spotted Sam and Nat walking towards in t-shirts and shorts, yawning and rubbing sleep from their eyes.

“Good morning, lovebirds,” Nat smiled. 

“Good morning,” Steve and Bucky said at the same time.

Nat smirked at the unison greeting. “Are you planning to make more coffee, Steve?”

“I’m willing to take the instant stuff if you’re out of the good stuff,” Sam quipped, wrapping his arms around his wife. “What’s for breakfast?”

“He thinks with his stomach,” Nat said to Bucky. “That’s something he and Steve have in common.” Bucky smiled and nodded in agreement while Steve rolled his eyes.

“I think we’ll have something light for breakfast since we’re heading to the diner for lunch,” Steve remarked. 

“That’s right. The diner. I’m definitely looking forward to filling my belly,” Sam said rubbing his stomach.

• • • • •

“During all our trips to see you, why didn’t you bring us here?” Nat asked as everyone piled out of Steve’s SUV which was parked in front of the diner.

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t think you were interested in seeing places I visited regularly.”

“Of course we’re interested,” Sam chimed in, grabbing his wife’s hand and giving it a kiss. “At least then we wouldn’t be under the constant impression that you’re a total hermit. Any other places you frequent?”

“Aside from the supermarket, the hardware store, the gardening center, and the mechanic, I don’t go anywhere else,” Steve replied.

“Go to any movie theatres?” Nat asked, leaning into her husband to return the kiss.

“Nope, I have the internet. I have subscriptions to streaming services and there’s YouTube. I can watch whatever I want online.”

Sam laughed. “You didn’t mention porn sites. There are porn sites on the internet.”

“Don’t need porn. I’ve got Bucky,” Steve said looking smug.

Bucky threw a questionable look at him. Steve winked at him as a reply.

“You are certainly something, Steven Grant Rogers,” Nat sighed. “Come on, let’s go inside. Sam and I are starving.”

Leading the way, Bucky found the banter between the three of them amusing and highly entertaining. Walking into the diner, Bucky noticed the majority of the lunch crowd had vacated. Becca walked out of the office, spotted him and gave him a look.

“This must be a first, baby brother. Why are you here on your day off?” Then she noticed Steve and the two people accompanying them. “Playing tour guide?” she asked.

“In a way; Steve’s actually the tour guide. Let me introduce them to you.”

Bucky turned to Sam and Nat. “This is my sister, Becca,” he said, gesturing to her. “She’s the manager. Becca, this is Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff. They are Steve’s closest friends. They flew in yesterday from New York and are visiting Steve for the week.”

Becca shook their hands. “Good to meet you. I occasionally wait on tables aside from handling the paperwork around here,” she smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet a couple of Steve’s friends.”

“Steve raved about the food here so we had to come see for ourselves,” said Sam.

“Steve has been one of our most loyal customers,” Becca smiled brightly. “It’s nice to hear he’s raving about this place. Pick a table and I’ll grab some cups and a pot of coffee.”

“I’ll help you,” Bucky piped up as he followed his sister. 

“You don’t have to do that. I can handle it,” she smiled. “It almost feels like meeting the in-laws.”

“Becs, really? The in-laws?”

“They are the closest thing to family for Steve, right?” Becca grabbed a tray and placed four clean coffee cups on the tray.

“Yeah.” Bucky grabbed a pot of freshly brewed coffee.

“And you met them last night? You didn’t say anything about them coming in to visit Steve.”

“That’s because I wasn’t expecting to meet them, but then Steve invited me over, I forgot to mention it to you,” Bucky replied as they walked to Steve’s favorite booth.

“Why would you think you wouldn’t meet them?”

“I dunno. I just wanted Steve to have his time with Sam and Nat. I didn’t want him spending all his free time with me.”

“I seriously doubt Steve sees it the way you see it. I bet if he could spend all his free time with you, he would. He knows me and Mom. Why wouldn’t he want Sam and Nat to meet you?”

“Maybe I’m just panicking.”

“Yes, you are, and for no good reason either. I like his friends. Nice couple.”

“Well, they were dying to meet you and Mom.”

“And now that they’ve met me, they’re most definitely going to meet Mom once I tell her who’s here. She’s gonna be so excited.” 

She placed the cups on the table. “Here you go. Bucky will pour the coffee. I’ll be back in a minute. I know someone who would love to meet you two.” She scurried away.

“Is she going to bring out your mom?” Steve asked.

“She is, indeed.”

“Good, because I want to talk to her about how I can get in on the food-tasting action,” Sam quipped, pouring some sugar into his coffee.

“We’re only here for a week, Sam,” Nat smiled fondly while Steve chuckled.

“She can have a second palate for a second opinion. Two palates are better than one. What do you think, Bucky?”

Amused by the conversation, Bucky sat down after filling all the cups with coffee. He placed the coffee pot on top of a couple of napkins. He thought for a second.

“She probably wouldn’t mind but I can’t really speak for her,” he replied. “It really depends on whether or not she planned to cook or bake anything for Steve to taste this week. You’re gonna have to sweet talk her, I think.”

“Baking?” Nat asked. “What kind of baking?”

“Check the chalkboard,” Steve answered, pointing to the menu board. “She’s got strawberry shortcake and blueberry cobbler on today’s dessert menu. She also has that display case with more baked goodies.”

Nat looked over at the display case, spotting the cookies, fruit tarts and a chocolate torte cake. She licked her lips, clearly wanting a closer look at what was available. “What can’t she cook?”

“To be honest, I don’t know,” Bucky replied. 

The kitchen door swung open and out came Becca and Winnie who wore a huge smile on her face. 

“Who do we have here?” she asked, walking up to the booth.

“Winnie, this is Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff,” Steve introduced. “My two best friends. Guys, this is Winnifred Barnes, owner and head cook of this diner. But most importantly, she is Becca and Bucky’s mom.”

“Please call me Winnie.”

“Nice to meet you, Winnie,” said Nat. “You can call me Nat.”

“Deal. What brings you two here?”

“We came to visit Steve and found out about Bucky,” Sam explained. “He didn’t say anything about him or how long they had been seeing each other until we arrived yesterday afternoon. Then we found out about the diner and how great the food here is.”

“Oh, I see what’s going on here. That’s quite the deflection, Steven,” Winnie noted, feigning the look of a disappointed mother. “Using me to move the subject away from my son. Steven, why didn’t you say anything to them before?”

“Because I didn’t feel like sharing Bucky just yet?”

Winnie shook her head and laughed. “Okay, I understand. My George did the same thing when we were dating. He didn’t tell any of his friends for months that we were seeing each other. He just wanted it to be us and only us for a while. Of course, he didn’t tell any of his friends until after he proposed to me. But I do think you could have told them before they arrived. And I told George he should have told his friends sooner, too.”

This was the first time Bucky had heard his mother talk about her life with his father before they had gotten married and had him and his sister. He liked hearing that little tidbit. It made him wish his father was still around so he could meet Steve.

Steve raised his hands in surrender. “You’re right. Maybe I was being a little selfish.”

“Just so you know,” Sam added. “We gave him a rough time until Bucky showed up for dinner. We’re all good now.”

“Do you need a few minutes to decide what you want to eat?” Becca asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Steve replied. “There’s going to be some tough decisions being made in the next ten minutes or so.”

“I can let you know what they want,” Bucky offered.

“Yeah, sure, that’ll be fine,” Becca replied. “I’ll be over at the lunch counter cleaning up.”

“Is there anything that tickles your fancy from the menu?” Winnie asked.

“Everything looks good,” Nat responded. “The photographs you have on the walls are lovely. They’re a nice touch to the place.”

“I have Bucky to thank for that. They’re his images,” Winnie said proudly.

“They are?” Nat asked. “He never mentioned food photography last night.”

“That’s because it never came up and these were for Mom,” Bucky explained as his cheeks pinkened. “I haven’t done any food photography since I shot these images.”

“I’m impressed,” Sam stated. “An image or two from that shoot would be a nice addition to your portfolio. And it would certainly attract potential commercial work.”

“You didn’t put any of these images in your portfolio, James Buchanan Barnes?”

Bucky knew that tone in his mother’s voice, but now that everyone at the booth was hearing it, too, he knew they were trying to hide their teasing smiles.

“Honestly, Mom, I didn’t think about it because I made them for you.”

“But they’re beautiful, James. Just because they’re for me doesn’t mean you should hide them from everyone else.”

“Well, if they came here, they would get to see them while they eat their lunch.”

Steve broke out laughing.

Bucky gave him a doubtful look. For whatever reason, he hadn’t really thought about including the images as part of his portfolio. He had always thought of them as gifts for his mother and the diner and left it at that. Now, he was having second thoughts.

“Okay, okay,” Bucky said in an attempt at appeasement. “I’ll go through the images and pick the best two for the portfolio.”

“That’s my boy,” Winnie smiled. “Well, I better get back to work and let everyone decide how they’re going to fill their stomachs today. I’ll see you later.”

“It was lovely meeting you, Winnie,” Sam called out. Winnie waved back at him and chuckled as she pushed open the kitchen door.

“The one of the spices is my favorite, if that helps in your decision-making,” Nat offered. “The colors are so vibrant and I love the way you lit them. You used a soft box, right?”

“Yeah, I did. Just the soft box and no reflector,” Bucky confirmed. “I still want a little bit of contrast in the softness.”

He glanced at Steve who was watching him with soft, fond eyes. Bucky felt suddenly shy under his gaze. Steve’s knee gently nudged his own; it was his way of communicating how much he loved listening to Bucky engage in conversation. 

“So, you put much thought into what you’d like to have for lunch?” Bucky asked Sam and Nat.

“What would you recommend?” Nat asked.

“I’ll defer to Steve,” said Bucky. “He says he’s had everything on the menu.”

“You can’t go wrong with anything,” Steve answered. “Just pick whatever appeals to you at the moment.”

“Do you know what you’re going to have, Steve?” Sam asked.

“I do but I’m not saying. I don’t want to influence your decision-making.”

Nat stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re not very helpful. Everything looks great,” she sighed.

Steve laughed and Bucky merely smiled.

• • • • •

The sun was setting into the horizon as the evening sky quickly turned indigo. Steve and Bucky cuddled in the hammock relishing the quiet sound of the wind rustling through the leaves of the trees. A small LED lantern set to ‘low’ illuminated the space on the veranda. Bucky snickered quietly, making Steve look down at the head of dark curls resting on his chest.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sam asking my mom about the taste-testing thing you’re doing for her and how he managed to get a small bag of baked goods even after she turned down his offer to be a second food taster.”

Steve chuckled remembering how hard Sam had worked on his pitch for the opportunity. But Winnie had seen right through him and laughed. She told him she admired his tenacity and initiative but the job had been taken. Nat failed miserably at not laughing at her husband’s attempts. But she was happy nonetheless when she spotted a fudge brownie in Winnie’s care package for them.

“My mission to get them to see the ways of Winnie’s cooking was accomplished. My work is done.”

Bucky snickered again. “They are definitely fans for life now… I have to go home soon. I’m working tomorrow.”

Steve held him a little tighter. “I know but I’m not quite ready to see you leave.”

“You have house guests. They’ll keep you company.”

“They’re sleeping. I think jet lag finally hit them.”

“I thought they flew in from New York.”

“Yeah, but before that they were in Spain. Nat had an assignment there and she wanted Sam to tag along. They were only in New York for a day before they flew out here.”

Bucky buried his nose into Steve’s t-shirt. “Okay, I can see jet lag hitting hard after all that. Before I go home, did you want to set up a time for the next modeling session?”

“I do. How does next week sound? Sam and Nat head back home this Saturday. Maybe we could make it Monday? Are you free?”

“I’m free. Same time as usual.”

“Yep.”

“Did you want to do the session in the studio or try a different location?”

This piqued Steve’s curiosity. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Just outside the studio. Like maybe here on the veranda with me in the hammock. Or out in the woods. Just for a little variety.”

“I don’t mind variety at all. I can sketch or doodle but I have to admit I never got used to doing actual drawings outdoors. I was always preoccupied with losing pencils, erasers or brushes. I could never settle in the way I do in the studio.”

Bucky hummed his understanding before raising his head to look at Steve. “Okay, how about this… we take it outdoors, but instead of drawing me, you can photograph me.”

Steve wasn’t sure what to say. It was a concept he had never entertained before.

“You don’t like the idea?” Bucky asked with curiosity.

“No, it’s not that at all. I love it, actually. I just don’t really see myself as much of a photographer.”

“You don’t have to make pretty pictures. Just think of what you’re doing as documenting something. I’m suggesting taking pictures of me so you’ll have something to work from while I’m in Chicago. Consider them reference photos.”

Steve thought for a moment. He liked Bucky’s suggested approach to the endeavour. It did make it easier to think that he would be documenting Bucky in certain situations and poses rather than trying to create a pretty image. It would also save Bucky from staying in one pose for ten to twenty minutes at a time.

“But I don’t have a camera, I just have the camera on my phone.”

“And that’s why you’re dating me,” Bucky smiled. “You can use my camera.”

“Which one?”

“The digital camera. We’ll download all the images onto your laptop and they’ll be at your disposal whenever you need to put pencil or ink to paper.”

Steve thought for a moment. “You’re trusting me with your camera equipment?”

“Yes. I’ll set up the camera for you unless you want to play around with it to get a feel for it before we start. We’ll simplify where we can on Monday. I just want you taking pictures instead of fussing with the equipment. Besides, I’ll be right there for troubleshooting advice.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it can be. I know this and I got you. It’ll be fun.”

Steve smiled at the thought of photographing Bucky. “I guess I’ll be creating a folder of images for my personal use.”

Bucky laughed. “I would be fucking disappointed if you didn’t.”

• • • • •

With coffee steeping in the French press, Steve waited for Bucky to arrive, excited about the opportunity to photograph Bucky. He had mentioned to Sam and Nat that he was going to do another session with Bucky, but chose not to inform them that he would be the photographer this time to use the images for reference later. It felt deeply personal to share that detail with them and he wasn’t sure why. 

Even when he was living in New York, he never discussed in detail his creative process and his working relationships with his models. Talking about it seemed to break some sense of sacredness about it.

Steve loved how drawing slowed his brain down and made him focused and present. He wondered if it was the same way for Bucky whenever he looked through the camera’s viewfinder. He would find out for himself soon. He wondered if the images he would be taking would bear any resemblance to his previous drawings. He wondered how much the reference images would be altered as he translated them into drawings and paintings. 

Steve had spent the rest of Sam and Nat’s visit thinking about the following Monday. He texted Bucky with his ideas. This did not go unnoticed by his best friends. They teased him mercilessly, asking him why he and Bucky hadn’t started living together yet. Steve insisted it was too soon to think about that considering Bucky would be in Chicago. He told them he and Bucky would discuss the idea after he received his degree.

Not surprisingly, Bucky was on board with every idea Steve suggested and helped him fine-tune ones Steve wasn’t quite sure were feasible.

Bucky’s car appeared down the road. Steve smiled as his heart beat faster. He wanted his arms around Bucky and Bucky’s arms around him. He wanted to breathe the same air as Bucky. He almost felt silly for wanting something as simple as that. But he didn’t have much time to rethink it as Bucky parked his car in front of him.

Climbing out of the car, Bucky smiled at him. Steve kissed him and pulled him into a hug to feed the need to touch him.

“Mmm, good morning,” Bucky grinned. “Are you ready to give this a shot?” He turned around to grab his gym bag and camera bag from the backseat.

“I am. I have coffee waiting for you.” Steve took the gym bag from Bucky as they headed towards the house.

“Good, because I haven’t had my first cup yet,” Bucky replied.

• • • • •

As Steve poured coffee into two mugs, Bucky opened up his camera bag to pull out the digital camera. Steve watched Bucky slide a memory card into the camera body. Turning the power on, he took off the lens cap and checked the settings, making adjustments along the way. 

“Whenever you are out with the camera, do you ever get people asking you questions about your equipment?”

“Every once in a while,” he replied. “I think it’s mostly done as a way to draw me into a conversation with them. And then there’s the odd one who brags about the kind of camera they have. They talk about how their camera takes great pictures.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “As if I didn’t know they were trying to get into a pissing match with me.”

Steve could hear a hint of annoyance with the braggers Bucky had encountered. “How do you respond to those kinds of questions?”

“I told them I was happy for them. Then I added that sharp images didn’t necessarily mean they were good images. I told them ‘Your equipment isn’t what makes you a good photographer; it’s what you can do with the camera you have that makes you a good photographer.’ And I left it at that. It usually shut them up or they toned down their attitude.”

Steve smiled at the way Bucky handled himself. “The ones who asked you these questions, were they people you were photographing or curious strangers?”

“It was never the subject. They were always respectful. It was either a passerby or someone who was with the subject at the time. I guess they thought because I’m young, they could try to… I dunno… talk circles around me or something like that.”

“Clearly, they underestimated you.”

“They did. Did you want to take a look at the camera and play around with it? I’m gonna go get into something looser-fitting. 

Steve nodded, handing Bucky his coffee mug in exchange for the camera. Steve ignored the fact Bucky was sipping his coffee as he watched him examine the camera. He noticed the lens on the camera was a wide-angle zoom lens. He peeked into the camera bag and pulled out a second lens. It was a telephoto zoom lens with a modest range of 40-110mm. Steve looked at the camera again and figured out how to remove the wide-angle and replaced it with the telephoto. He looked up at Bucky to find him grinning. Steve grinned back.

“What’s with the smile?”

“You look like a kid figuring out a new toy,” Bucky replied, taking another sip of coffee.

“Well, it is new to me,” Steve confirmed, pointing the camera at Bucky. Looking through the viewfinder screen, he took a couple of frames of Bucky.

“The memory card is empty and the file images are set to RAW. It’s a 32-gigabyte card. You’d have to take a ton of photographs before you filled that puppy up.”

“Didn’t you say you were going to change?”

“I will after I raid your kitchen.”

Steve arched an eyebrow.

“I didn’t have breakfast either. Do you have chocolate croissants?”

• • • • •

“Do I need bug spray?”

“I don’t think so. I have some just in case but I think you’ll be fine. Besides, you said these are reference photos so I’ll just ignore any bug bites that show up on your body and draw smooth skin in its place.”

“Does anybody ever show up on the property unannounced?”

“No, I usually don’t get visitors and the neighbors know to call ahead and I do the same with them. This area is familiar to locals. The route to get here isn’t used by travellers because it doesn’t lead to any tourist attractions. Most out-of-state visitors use a different route to get to Indianapolis. Even if someone has lost their way going somewhere, I can hear them coming up the road.” Steve tilted his head slightly. “Feeling modest?”

“Well, yeah,” Bucky replied, removing his t-shirt and sweatpants. “I’m not doing this to be an exhibitionist. It’s not a free show. I’m doing it for you and you’re paying me.” Bucky threw in a winsome smile for good measure.

Steve laughed as he switched on the power to the camera.

“So, hammock first?” Bucky asked. “Any particular way you want me to lie in it. We could go innocent naturalist or something a little more salacious.”

“Let’s leave the salacious for later,” Steve smiled easily. “This is my first time photographing you. You can’t throw a distraction like that at me in the first ten minutes.”

“Another time, perhaps?”

“Perhaps. I’ll give you a couple of minutes to think about what you want to do in the hammock.”

A minute later, Bucky climbed into the hammock, lying lengthwise with his left calf hanging out over the hammock. He placed his hands behind the back of his head and closed his eyes as if he were taking a nap. 

“Will this do?” he asked.

“Sure,” Steve replied. “I’m not gonna be picky.”

“You will be before the session is over,” Bucky said confidently.

Twenty minutes went by before Steve felt he had taken enough images on the veranda. As always, Bucky had given him a number of poses for him to capture. For Steve, it was an exercise in looking at his subject in a slightly different context and getting comfortable with the camera. With each passing ‘click’ of the camera, Steve was slowly but surely becoming comfortable with the apparatus.

“Where do you want to go next?” Bucky asked.

“I was thinking of going back inside to the bedroom.”

Bucky smirked. “Is that where the session will end?”

“No, if you’re expecting me to seduce you, it’ll have to wait.”

Bucky pouted playfully. “Damn, I was hoping to suck your dick today.”

Steve laughed. “It’s still morning. We have the rest of the day. Besides, you had a chocolate croissant. You’ve been fed. You’re good until lunch.”

• • • • •

Bucky threw himself backwards onto the bed once he and Steve entered the bedroom. “What would you like me to do? Jerk off for you?”

“Why must you make my life difficult?” Steve sighed. “When I want to do a series of drawings on the theme of self-love, I will happily take reference pictures of you jerking off anywhere in the house or on the property. I thought you said you weren’t an exhibitionist.”

Bucky propped up onto his elbows. “I’m not. But I’d like to provide you with some quality porn so you can give yourself a little love when I’m not here. Can I use dildos, vibrators and anal plugs when we actually get around to doing that series?”

Steve sighed with a smile and shook his head. “Bucky, you’re incorrigible.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

“Ask me again when I’m actually planning to do the series.”

Bucky laughed as he rolled onto his back, and moved into his first pose.

• • • • •

After taking photos of Bucky trying on some of Steve’s shirts and t-shirts which were a couple of sizes too big for the young man, Steve realized they had taken a considerable amount of time in the bedroom.

“I like to go back outside into the backyard, and then maybe into the woods for a few before we call it a morning,” Steve suggested.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Bucky replied, hanging Steve’s shirts back in the closet.

“Did you want some bug spray?”

“You said I should be okay without it.”

“I think you’ll be fine but the option is yours. I’ll bring it with us, just in case you change your mind.”

“Yeah, bring it along just in case,” Bucky agreed.

• • • • •

“Why are you putting on my work boots?”

“Because they’ll look better in the pictures than my sneakers,” Bucky replied, grabbing a Boston Red Sox ball cap.

Steve stared at Bucky and wanted to laugh. “Are the boots too big? Maybe you should wear your sneakers instead.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Bucky also grabbed a sun hat with a drawstring and walked out, sans clothes, into the backyard.

Steve shook his head, following and watching Bucky head straight for the small tractor. 

“You’re kinda cute with that ball cap, Buck,” Steve called out. 

“I think I look dorky with the boots and cap and nothing else,” he replied with a smile. “But that’s half the fun, don’t you think?”

“I beg to differ on the dorky part.”

Bucky laughed as he climbed into the seat. The morning sky was dotted with white fluffy clouds, so Bucky wasn’t going to be hit with full-on sunlight. In equal measure, Steve appreciated both the hard lines the sun created and the soft lines the clouds provided along Bucky’s body. 

It was out here, in this setting that Bucky was having fun. Right from Bucky’s first cheesy pose on the tractor, Steve knew that the majority of the images from this location were going to be filed away into his personal folder. Bucky was having ridiculous fun with both hats and it brought a smile to Steve’s face. Despite the outright cheek and nonsense Bucky was displaying, Steve thought he could use them as references for a yet to be realized collection of work. 

Steve noticed Bucky staring at something. He followed Bucky’s sight line to the raised garden box. He wrinkled his brow wondering why he was looking at it. His gaze fell back onto Bucky who was making his way over to the garden. Steve watched wordlessly as Bucky picked up the large aluminum pail that used to be used for hauling water to the garden and walked it over to the old-fashioned water pump.

“This still works, right?” Bucky asked. “It’s not here to look pretty, is it?”

Steve chuckled. “Yes, it works.”

“Cool. Is there a sponge I could use?”

“Yeah, there’s one in the kitchen,” he replied, hooking the camera strap onto his shoulder, making his way back inside the house. 

“Thanks. Could you grab my gym bag, too?”

Steve returned with both a large sponge and the gym bag.

“Thanks,” Bucky said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Steve watched Bucky take his jeans out of the bag and quickly pull them on. After moving the gym bag several feet away, he plunged the sponge into the water-filled bucket. Bucky shot Steve a grin.

“Are you going to make me guess what you’re planning to do?” Steve asked.

“I thought I’d cool down,” he answered.

Immediately, Steve understood what Bucky had in mind. And he was completely on board with the idea. Smiling, Steve raised the camera to look through the viewfinder screen again. A few seconds later, Steve started taking photos as Bucky started rinsing his arms with the water.

“Holy shit, it’s cold,” Bucky laughed, adjusting to the sudden temperature change. “You might want to come a little closer for the fun part,” he smirked.

Steve stepped closer as Bucky dipped the sponge into the pail and tentatively squeezed it over his chest. The cold water darkened the light brown hair scattered across his chest. The sudden temperature change had Bucky grimacing and hissing between sharp intakes of breath. Goosebumps quickly appeared and his nipples stiffened as glistening beads of water shimmered on his skin.

Excited by how the sunlight made the water and Bucky’s skin glisten, Steve quickly snapped consecutive frames. Bucky repeated the move several times to make sure Steve was able to get at least a few decent images to choose from later. 

The front of Bucky’s jeans were now soaked and precariously hanging from his hips but he didn’t appear bothered by that fact as he tossed the sponge into the pail and pumped more water into the container. As Bucky watched the water flow into the pail, Steve continued to take pictures, settling into the idea of trying to capture a moment or two, or more.

Now loaded up with water again, Bucky moved in front of the pail with his back facing Steve. He slowly stood up, squeezed the sponge over his head and shoulders. The water traveled down his toned back in rivulets. 

Steve knew he was becoming increasingly distracted by the lines and gentle slopes and curves of Bucky’s body. He wanted nothing more than to run his hands down Bucky’s back and lick every drop of water clinging to his skin. He paused for a second to take a deep breath and push his libidinous thoughts aside while Bucky dipped the sponge back into the pail for more water.

Bucky dipped into the pail two more times before Steve interrupted him.

“Buck, you’re soaking wet,” he said. “I’m pretty sure I have enough images to work with. You can stop. I’ll go get a towel for you so you can dry off. You can hang your jeans over that chair if you like so the sun can dry it.”

Bucky smiled gently. “Sure, I guess I was getting carried away. Getting wet was fun.”

Steve swallowed thickly, still staring at Bucky. “It looked like fun. Just like the ones you took of me in the shower.”

Bucky gave him a knowing look. “I’m looking forward to seeing these images. I’m curious to see what caught your eye.”

“Me, too.” Steve wasn’t sure either. He wondered what his subconscious had picked up on. “I’ll be back in a minute if you want to get out of that now.”

Two minutes later, Steve returned to Bucky with an old dark grey bath towel he dug up from his closet. Bucky was sitting in the patio chair wringing out his jeans.

“Here you go,” he said, taking the wet pair of jeans from Bucky’s hands and draping them over the back of the chair. 

“Thanks. Did you still want to go into the trees?” Bucky asked as he dried off.

“Only if you’re still up for it. We’ve done a lot already.”

“Let’s do it. It’s just one more location and then we’ll have lunch or do something else.”

Steve heard the smug tone in Bucky’s last two words. “Would you like to clarify what you mean by ‘something else’?”

“Well,” Bucky answered coyly. “It’s been a while since we made out.” 

“Honestly, Buck, you make it sound like we haven’t seen each other in months.”

“So, you’re saying you’re not interested in a little tactile activity?”

Steve chuckled at Bucky’s attempts to push his buttons. “You know damn well I’m interested in more than just a little tactile activity. The sooner we head to the last location, the sooner we can be tactile and maybe spend the rest of the day in bed.”

Bucky smiled at the prospect of getting loved up for the rest of the day. “I’ll just put on my sweat pants and t-shirt. I ain’t looking to get scratched up if we’re walking through brush.”

“The clearing we’re going to is about three hundred yards from the end of this yard. There’s a path. We should be fine. Do you want some bug spray?”

“It hasn’t been bad. Bring it along just in case. But like you said, I’ll be okay.”

• • • • •

“Will you stop squirming? And for god’s sake, stop scratching? I’m trying to put some ointment on the bites. Scratching at them is only going to make it worse.”

“No, I’m itchy, and you sound like my mom. You said I didn’t need bug spray.”

“I had bug spray. I offered again but you still said ‘no’ until it was too late. At least you had sunscreen on. At least you didn’t sunburn your dick.” Steve was trying to put some levity into the situation. But Bucky ignored the last remark. 

“I shouldn’t have listened to you when you first said I didn’t need it,” Bucky whined, scratching his bug-bitten calves as he downloaded all the images from the session onto Steve’s laptop. “I should have sprayed it on before we started.”

Steve finally got Bucky to stop scratching, but that was only because he had become preoccupied by the images Steve had taken. “And for that I apologize. I didn’t realize the bugs thought your blood was so tasty.”

“Well, yes, bugs love me. Mosquitos love me but what the fuck were those things that bit me? Horse flies? Black flies? They’re nasty biters. Fuck them for thinking I’m good eats.”

“Well, I really can’t argue that they’re wrong; you are good eats.”

“Oh, my god,” Bucky laughed. “Could you not be any cheesier than you already are? Just for that, your dick isn’t coming anywhere near my ass or my mouth. No afternoon lovin’ and no evening nibbles either.”

Steve chuckled but felt bad about the discomfort Bucky was enduring at the moment. He noticed Bucky started paying less attention to his calves as he scrolled through the images, marking off ones he thought were good. He was glad the ointment was working right away.

Once Bucky became quietly preoccupied, Steve walked to the kitchen pantry to pull out the food processor to grind some oatmeal for a bath for Bucky. The sound of the appliance whirring away caught Bucky’s attention.

“Are you making lunch?”

“Not yet. I’m just getting some oatmeal ready.”

“For what? Are you going to bake something?”

“No, it’s for the bath that you’re going to take later.”

“You’ve turned into Mom,” Bucky said flatly.

“Isn’t that a bit of an insult to your mom?”

“You’re a punk. I meant Mom used to give me and Becca oatmeal baths when we got mosquito or bug bites. Just to confirm, bugs love feasting on the Barnes siblings. But to be honest, Becca has sensitive skin so it was good for her. And I swear Mom gave me a bath in that stuff so Becca wouldn’t feel different.”

“You do have great skin, Buck.”

“Which is red and irritated right now.”

“But the ointment is working, is it not?” Satisfied with the consistency of the ground oats, Steve poured the oatmeal into a glass measuring cup and set it aside.

“It is. I’m just being grouchy. Your pictures don’t look bad even though I still don’t like looking at myself.”

“But you like the drawings I did of you.”

“I do, but I still get weird about looking at myself,” he replied with a shrug. “It’ll take me awhile to stop cringing whenever I look at images of myself. These pictures are actually good. Your drawing eye translates well photographically.”

“Which ones do you like?” Steve walked over and sat down beside Bucky at the kitchen table.

“There are a few from each of the locations. Let me put them into a folder and then I can show you. Keep in mind, these are the ones I like. There are probably others that you’ll like when you get the time to go through all of them.”

A minute later, Bucky brought up his first edits and showed them to Steve in a makeshift slide show presentation. The first three images were of Bucky in the hammock. Three different poses. Nothing particularly lurid. Just simple and uncomplicated. The next images were taken in the bedroom. There were more than a few images Bucky had chosen.

“How many bedroom shots are there?” he asked.

“Maybe ten.”

“Why did you pick so many?”

“Because they’re good,” Bucky answered simply. “Also, you know that space intimately so that comes into play regardless of who’s in front of the camera.”

“They wouldn’t be considered boudoir shots, would they?”

Bucky laughed. “Why does that sound like a bad thing when you say it that way? And to answer your question, no they are not. Not in the traditional sense anyway. They’re just artistic nudes or figure studies. They’re your images; label them anyway you want. No one’s gonna see them except you and me.”

Steve chuckled at his over-thinking of the word ‘boudoir.’ He didn’t have an aversion to the word. But associating the word with Bucky didn’t seem like a natural fit to him. Artistic was a word that better suited Bucky. “You’re right. Could we look at those again? I’d like to figure out why you like them.”

“You don’t like them?”

“I do like them. I just want to see what it is that made you select them.”

“You want to know what makes me tick? I thought you had figured that out by now.”

“I haven’t figured you out. And I hope I never do. You’re always going to be a wonder and mystery to me.”

Bucky’s cheeks pinkened as he kept his eyes on the screen. “You’re sappy. Cute, but sappy.”

Steve leaned in to kiss him on the cheek and looked at the screen with him. He deduced that the common thread connecting each image together was how unguarded Bucky seemed to be. He was comfortable with Steve. His body language spoke volumes. It was interesting to see the difference comparing their first session together to this most recent one.

“You’re becoming a natural as an art model, Buck,” Steve remarked.

“That’s only because I’m modeling for you and no one else,” he replied.

“True, but you look comfortable in your own skin.”

“Thanks, I actually enjoyed today’s session… aside from the bug bites.” Bucky turned his head to smile at him.

“Duly noted,” Steve smiled back. “Let’s take a look at the ones on the tractor and the water.”

“Ah, the good stuff,” Bucky said in an agreeing tone. “Jesus, the tractor stuff is fucking hilarious but they are to never see the light of day again.”

“Why?”

Bucky brought up another slide show with just the shots of him with the tractor. Steve howled with laughter. Bucky laughed but not because of the images; he was laughing at Steve’s reaction. A minute later, Steve finally calmed down long enough to speak.

“I swear to god I did not realize how goddamn funny you are in those photos. If your mom saw them she would think you’re adorable,” Steve said, wiping tears from his eyes.

“No, my mother can’t see these,” Bucky replied, closing the files. “And Becca will tease me for the rest of eternity if she sees them. These photos are between you and me. No one else. And if our relationship ends, I’m scrubbing these images from your laptop.”

“Our relationship won’t end. I’ll make sure it won’t. The photos are great. I’m glad I took them.” Steve lightly ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair. His hair was soft from the well water.

Bucky glanced at him carefully. “Is that a promise? Our relationship won’t end?”

“It won’t. I promise.”

Bucky couldn’t hide his smile. “I’m glad you liked those wild-ass photos. Discovering how you see me has been enlightening.”

“It has?” Steve smiled.

Yep. Let me show you more examples.”

With a couple of clicks, Bucky brought up the images with the sponge and water pail. Steve counted eight images Bucky had chosen. He was rendered speechless by each one of them.

“I shot those?” he asked with incredulity. He stared at the images for a moment. He couldn’t believe how stunning Bucky looked.

“You did,” Bucky smiled. “The exposures are so good even though I did set the function to ‘program.’ The setting did the job better than I expected and the composition is great. That’s all you. I almost forgot I was in the image. I actually don’t mind looking at myself here. These you can show to Becca and my mom. I’m not gonna complain.”

Steve was thrilled. He still couldn’t find the words to describe how he was feeling. Elated was a word; proud was another. 

“Jesus, Buck, I don’t know what to say. I’m fucking flabbergasted.”

“Wow, that’s a heck of a word you’re using.”

“Flabbergasted is a good word. Ma used to use that word a lot. You should include it in your vocabulary.” 

Steve paused to stare at the photos a little longer. The glistening skin and shimmering water droplets were enticing to see. The soaked jeans seemed to be seconds away from completely sliding off Bucky’s hips. He couldn’t believe how well the images turned out.

“You look fucking amazing, Buck. I would definitely jerk off looking at these images.”

“I’ll set these ones aside for you since you’ll probably need them later.”

“Must you be like this?”

“I’m bug bitten and irritated. And not in a good way. I’m gonna be a terrible fuck.”

“You need lunch and a good soak in the tub. That should make you more comfortable.”

“Maybe. But after we look at the images from that god-forsaken clearing.”

Steve chuckled but he couldn’t blame Bucky for being so sour. They only had spent no more than ten minutes in the clearing before the bugs discovered Bucky. 

After that, it was all over. Bucky had picked up his clothes and did a hybrid of a walk-run to get out of the clearing and away from the bugs. Steve followed close behind, concerned and taking an instant disliking to Mother Nature’s little friends.

Steve watched the photos from the clearing appear on the screen. He didn’t think they were all that bad. But they also weren’t up to par with the previous locations. Maybe he was just thinking that way because he was associating the images with Bucky’s encounter with the bloody-thirsty biters. 

“These aren’t bad, Steve. We can revisit that spot next spring before the bugs start coming out.” 

Steve looked at Bucky with surprise. “You want to go back to the clearing? I thought you never wanted to go back there again.”

“At the time, yeah, I wanted to get the fuck outta there. But now that I’m not so sore and itchy, I’m thinking we didn’t get a chance to really get into a flow. I think we need to plan a little better or be better prepared now that we’ve learned our lesson.”

Steve smiled warmly. “I’m fine with never photographing your naked ass outdoors again. But if you want to have another try at a later date, I won’t argue with you.”

“Good.” Bucky closed the files and the laptop. “So, what’s for lunch? I’m actually kinda hungry now. And I would be open to that oatmeal bath you mentioned.”

• • • • •

Sighing contentedly, Bucky moved his hands through the warm, milky water. The oatmeal bath was welcome relief for his inflamed skin. He didn’t even mind that Steve had talked his way into the tub with him. He was happy to use his lover’s bare chest to lounge against.

“I have to admit that this is pretty nice,” Bucky confessed. 

“Are you feeling better?” Steve’s baritone voice rumbled through his chest which rumbled through Bucky’s back.

“I do. Having you for a pillow is a nice bonus. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“You’re more than welcome, Buck. It’s always a pleasure for me to be able to do that for you. We should ice down the bites before we put more ointment on them.”

Music from Steve’s phone played quietly, filling the bathroom with the sounds of violins and cellos harmonizing and playing counterpoint to each other. Steve’s arms rested comfortably along the edge of the bathtub. Bucky reached out, taking Steve’s hands to pull them into the water where they could rest around his waist.

He heard Steve chuckle.

“For a second there, I thought you wanted me to jerk you off,” Steve said, gently squeezing Bucky’s hands.

“I also said I didn’t want your dick near my ass, yet here we are,” Bucky countered, well aware that Steve’s cock was firmly pressed against his back. 

“So, you’re saying having my dick inside you is something you would like to experience after we get out of the tub?”

Bucky guided Steve’s hand down to cock. Steve instinctively wrapped his hand around him. “I don’t think we need to wait that long.” 


	13. Taking the next step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky glanced down at his plate. “Sometimes, you’re too good for me, Steve.”
> 
> Steve grabbed his hands and squeezed them. “No, I’m not. I want to be good enough for you, Buck.”
> 
> Bucky’s eyes watered. “Fuck, have I told you that I love you?”
> 
> “You have and you can keep saying it until you get tired of me.”
> 
> “That’s not ever gonna happen.”
> 
> “Good, because I was wondering if you would like to move in with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Welcome to chapter 13. Two more chapters to go, folks. Just a nice sweet journey for these two boys. Thank you for sticking with the story. Middi and I believe you'll love the end of the story. 
> 
> The next chapter will go up on Monday and that's where you'll see Middi's art. It's pretty soft and sweet. Enjoy this chapter and see you on Monday :)

Steve placed several sketch books and drawing supplies into a large duffle bag that was already filled with several days worth of clothes and toiletries. His cell phone rang and vibrated on his nightstand. Looking at the call display, Steve smiled.

“Hey, Sam. What’s up?”

“I have great news. Your first gallery show since you’ve been living the hermit life has been confirmed for next year.” 

“That’s great! When is it?”

“Next year in October. You have thirteen months to put it together.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I haven’t been living the hermit life.” Steve grinned. “It’s simply a quieter life.”

“It can’t possibly be that quiet with Bucky around.”

“Never a dull moment, Sam. Which gallery will be hosting my new work?”

“Triskelion Art in East Williamsburg.”

“Wow, that’s a great gallery. Great reputation. You know the owners, don’t you?”

“I do, indeed. Maria Hill, Helen Cho and Wanda Maximoff. They have artists lined up at least two years in advance. They made an exception for you.”

“I didn’t bump anyone out of that spot, did I?”

“No, you didn’t. The artist had to pull out for some reason. But they’ve given the artist a standing invitation to return with their show at a later date.”

“Okay, that’s good. I didn’t want to be given special treatment.”

“No special treatment. They are excited to be the venue that gets to showcase your newest work though. The year will give them time to prepare for the amount of interest your return is going to generate.”

“Are people still going to be that interested in me?”

“Are your eyes blue, Steve? Yes, of course.”

Steve laughed. “Fine, you’ve made your point. How’s Nat? Are you two expecting yet?”

“She’s doing great. And I don’t think she’s pregnant yet. It’s only been a month since we saw you. It’s too early to tell if we got it on the first try.”

“Well, whenever it happens, you and Nat are going to make great parents.”

“It’s gonna be one hell of a learning curve. But Nat and I are ready. Or we think we are. And you’re going to be a kick-ass godfather. That’s gonna be one lucky kid. By the way, how is Bucky? He should be heading back to Chicago soon, right?”

“He’s heading to Chicago tomorrow. Classes start next Monday. I’m going to follow him in my car and spend a few days with him.”

“How are you guys going to handle the distance?”

“I’ll drive up on the weekends if he has time for me. Other than that, it’ll be phone calls and text messages. It’s only for the school year. We don’t think it’ll be too difficult to navigate.”

“Glad to hear it. You two are great together.”

Steve smiled. “We think so too.”

• • • • •

Pulling up in front of the Barnes home, Steve spotted Bucky in the driveway, trying to shove two large hockey bags into the backseat of his car. Steve stepped out of his vehicle and made his way towards him.

“You can put one of them in my car,” he offered.

Bucky looked up and smiled, looking relieved. “Yeah, that would be great.” He leaned in to kiss Steve. “Good morning. Mom left you something to eat during the drive.”

“She did? She didn’t have to do that.”

“She did and she’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer. Do you have your travel mug with you?”

“It’s in the car. Why?” Steve pulled out the hockey bag sitting on top of the other one and carried it over to his vehicle.

“Do you have coffee in it already?”

“No, I was hoping to fill up at the diner before we left town.”

“Don’t need to do that. There’s a pot of coffee in the kitchen waiting for you.”

Steve’s chest bloomed with warmth as he placed the hockey bag into the back of the SUV. “Again. She didn’t have to do that.”

“As far as she’s concerned, you’re family,” Bucky pointed out. “And she wants to make sure you’re set for the drive. I have a couple of boxes sitting in the kitchen that need to come with me and I have two bags of groceries.”

“Nothing in the cupboards at your place?”

“Nothing. I’m taking just canned stuff and pasta. There’s also vegetables from the garden. That was Mom’s idea. And I have to give you a heads up that she’s probably going to enlist you as her delivery guy.”

“For what?”

“Whenever you come to visit, she’s going to give you a week’s worth of fresh vegetables to pass along to me.”

Steve laughed. 

“Honestly, I know how to shop for groceries. I’ve gone grocery shopping with you before. You know how competent I am.”

“Competency has nothing to do with a mother’s prerogative and desire to take care of her children in any way she can.”

“Well, she’s going to ask you to bring me care packages in order to fulfill those motherly prerogatives.”

“I have no problem with that. I think it’s great she still wants to take care of you.”

Bucky sighed. “Fine, as long as you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?” Steve asked, grabbing his empty travel mug from the console. “I’d be assisting your mother in making sure you eat a proper and balanced diet… on the weekends, at least.”

“I can’t believe the two of you are gonna gang up on me. Come on, let’s get some coffee and load up the rest of my stuff.”

• • • • •

Steve followed Bucky into a well-lit underground parking garage. Once Bucky parked in his spot, he quickly climbed out of his car and gestured for Steve to park in the space next to his car.

“This will be your parking spot whenever you visit,” Bucky clarified as Steve got out of the vehicle. “The elevator is four parking spots over. It only goes up to the main floor. We have to walk through the lobby to get to the elevators where all the apartments are. I’m on the third floor. Let’s go grab a buggy for my stuff from the reception area. It’s one of the nice things about this building; they have buggies to move shit from the car to the apartment.”

• • • • •

“Welcome to my humble home. This is where I’ll be sleeping without you for the next several months.”

Steve laughed as he helped Bucky unload the buggy and move the hockey bags into the walk-in closet. Once the vegetables were in the fridge and the cupboards stocked with non-perishable food, Steve looked around the studio apartment while Bucky returned the trolley to the reception area. 

The studio apartment was small but well-organized. Bucky really didn’t need much space. Just a place to eat and sleep since most of his days would be spent on the campus grounds and working on his thesis. There wasn’t much by the way of personal mementos occupying space in the apartment. But Steve thought that should change since he was going to spend some time here as well. He didn’t want Bucky to be distracted by the fact he wouldn’t see him as much as he liked during the academic year. 

The door opened and Bucky walked in with two bottles of orange juice in his hands.

“Where did you get those?” Steve asked.

“Letitia gave them to me when I brought the buggy back,” Bucky replied, handing one of them over to Steve. “It’s her way of saying welcome back to me. She also thinks you’re pretty hot and said you’re lucky to have me.”

Steve smiled. “Why do I get the feeling everyone is going to give me the gears if I totally fuck this up with you?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “I guess they love me. Anything you want to do now that I’m kinda settled in? Did you want to head over to the campus and be given a personal tour by yours truly?”

“Maybe tomorrow.” He pulled Bucky in for a heated kiss. “Since you’re settled in, I can tell you that I have an art exhibition confirmed for next year in October.”

Bucky beamed. “Congratulations! That’s fucking awesome! Where?” 

“Triskelion Art. It’s in Brooklyn. East Williamsburg.”

“I’m so fucking excited for you. How do you want to celebrate? Want some Chicago deep dish pizza?”

Steve cringed. Bucky laughed. Then he yelped after Steve pinched his ass. 

“You know I don’t like deep dish pizza. You’re talking to a native New Yorker here,” Steve growled playfully.

“Fine, I deserved that,” Bucky said, rubbing his left butt cheek.

“I was thinking more about spending some time breaking in the bed,” he suggested. “You have extra bed sheets, right?”

Bucky grinned, unzipping Steve’s jeans. “Yeah, I do have extra bed sheets.”

• • • • •

Steve was excited and pleased when Bucky said he was going to be back home for Christmas and New Year’s. He was also excited to hear that Winnie wanted Steve to have Christmas dinner with the Barnes family.

Christmas Eve at the Barnes household was a far cry from a scene out of a Norman Rockwell painting. If what Steve was witnessing was a painting, it probably would have been painted by an erstwhile younger brother who liked to mock him… If Rockwell had a younger brother.

The Christmas tree had toppled over and a white furry, four-legged tornado ran around the house tangled in silver tinsel. Becca was pursuing the frightened kitten because the poor thing had made the mistake of trying to climb the Christmas tree which led to it falling over.

Bucky was howling with laughter and Winnie was unimpressed with her son’s reaction.

“James Buchanan Barnes. It’s best you stop laughing and get this tree upright,” Winnie ordered. “The turkey is resting so supper is going to be ready in twenty minutes. I think it would be nice if the tree wasn’t lying on the floor.” Then she sighed as Bucky continued to laugh. She looked pleadingly at Steve.

Steve nodded. “Yes, of course, I’ll help Bucky clean up this mess.”

“You’re a good boy,” she said. “It’s a good thing he has you.”

“Winnie, you are so right. Did you hear that, Buck?”

“What?” Bucky asked as his laughter slowly died away.

“Your mother said you’re lucky you have me,” Steve replied as he moved the fallen tree to an upright position.

“Personally, I think you’re lucky to have me,” Bucky countered, picking up the ornaments that had fallen from the tree.

“Oh my God, are you two being sappy?” Becca interrupted, cooing and cuddling the still frightened fluffy mound of fur sitting in her arms. “I thought you guys were past that stage.”

“Who’s that?” Steve asked, looking at the kitten. It was the first time he managed to get a good glimpse of the creature since he arrived. “Is it a recent addition to the family?”

“This is Alpine,” Becca replied. “Anita’s cat had kittens three months ago. He was the runt of the litter. His brother and sisters were adopted out and he was the last one. Bucky fell in love with him and brought him home.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “Bucky?” He turned to look at his boyfriend. “When did you get him? You’ve only been home four days, and you spent two of them with me.”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “I brought him home yesterday after I picked up cat supplies for the little guy.” He made a grabby hands gesture at Becca, indicating he wanted to snuggle the little furball. “I couldn’t walk away from him.” He cooed at the kitten once Becca placed it in his hands.

Steve walked over to take a closer look at the feline. The kitten mewled at Steve, wriggling to get out of Bucky’s hands. Alpine immediately leapt at Steve, forcing him to quickly catch him before he landed on the floor. Alpine continued to mewl at Steve, demanding something from the man.

“What does he want?” Steve asked.

“Your attention,” Bucky replied. “He likes you. Go ahead and pet him. He won’t break. He still has some tinsel wrapped around his legs. I’ll get it off him if you hold him and keep him busy.”

With a gentle touch, Steve brushed his fingers over the kitten’s head. Alpine lifted his head to offer his chin and throat to Steve. Moving his fingers under the kitten’s chin, Steve lightly scratched it. Alpine purred loudly, looking pleased and blissful. Steve couldn’t help but smile at the fluffy feline.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend,” Bucky remarked with a smile.

“Yeah, I think I did,” Steve smiled.

• • • • •

Tapping his fingers on the kitchen counter, Steve waited for his phone call to be answered. He was leaving soon to pick up Becca and Winnie. They were going to make their way to Chicago for the opening night of the student art show that Bucky was participating in as part of his final year at the school.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sam.”

“Before you say anything else, I know why you’re calling.”

“You do?”

“You’re calling to see what Maria, Helen and Wanda had to say about your proposal.”

“Yeah, I’m heading up to Chicago today to see Bucky’s art show. I’d like to surprise him if they’ll go for it.”

“You can surprise him with the news,” Sam confirmed. “I brought up your idea and backed it up with some of the images you sent me. They loved your idea. They loved the work, and it totally fulfils the gallery’s mandate.”

“Yes! That’s great. I can’t wait to see Bucky’s face when I tell him.”

“He is going to shit his pants,” Sam agreed. “Don’t be surprised if he panics.”

“Don’t worry. First, he’ll be over the moon, then he’ll think about it before he panics. I got this.”

“It’s gonna be a great show. Can't wait to see you and Bucky here in the Big Apple in October.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be great. I’ll talk to you soon. Take care and tell Nat I said hi.”

“Will do.”

• • • • •

Steve knew the route to get to Chicago like the back of his hand. Like so many times before, Steve was excited to see Bucky. But this time, he was particularly excited because this would be the last time he would have to drive up to see him. 

Not only was tonight the opening night, this weekend he would be helping Bucky pack up and move his belongings back to Shelbyville. Winnie and Becca were excited to head to Chicago just for the weekend. They had offered to help Bucky move back home but he had insisted they enjoy themselves by doing a little sightseeing of the Windy City. He said Steve was enough muscle to do the job.

After getting Becca and Winnie checked in into their hotel room and dropping off their luggage, the trio headed down to the institute where the show was being held.

Steve lucked out by finding a parking spot a block away from the gallery. He texted Bucky to say they had arrived and they would see him in a couple of minutes.

Walking through the front entrance and into the atrium, Steve spotted Bucky, wearing a dark blue blazer jacket and black jeans, pacing in front of the gallery’s entrance. 

“Buck,” he called out. The younger man turned his head in the direction of Steve’s voice. He smiled when he spotted the trio and quickly made his way towards them.

“I’m glad you guys made it,” he said, hugging his mother. 

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, baby boy,” she said.

“How’s Alpine? Is Anita babysitting him?”

“Yes, she’s watching over him,” Becca laughed, giving her brother a hug.

Bucky turned to look at Steve. “How was the drive down here?”

“Uneventful and I had great company for the drive,” Steve smiled, pulling Bucky in for a hug and a kiss. “Let’s go take a look at the show.”

“Yeah, absolutely. Let me show you guys around and you can meet some of the other thesis students, too.”

• • • • •

“This is a really good show, Buck. Lots of talent here in this room.”

“There is,” Bucky replied, snatching a pastry puff from Steve’s napkin. “I’m in good company.”

Steve spent the last hour looking at all the pieces in the show. He was happy meeting some of Bucky’s classmates who had gone through the program and would be graduating along with him.

Bucky had even introduced Steve to his advisor and his professors. They were shocked and honored to meet him while gently chiding Bucky for not informing them that he knew Steve. They were unaware of the true nature of their relationship as Bucky had chosen not to say anything, so Steve remained quiet about it. He knew why Bucky hadn’t said anything before. It would have been a distraction and he didn’t want that piece of information to be a point of gossip during the event.

While Winnie and Becca continued to look around and talk to a couple of Bucky’s professors, Steve leaned in and whispered in Bucky’s ear.

“I have something to ask you.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been waiting all day to do it.”

Bucky gave him an interested look. “Well, ask me. I’m here right now and I’m all ears. What’s the question?”

“How would you like to have your images be part of the show in October?”

“What show?”

“Mine. Well, it becomes ours if you say ‘yes.’ ”

Bucky stared at him in absolute disbelief for a moment. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Do what to you?”

“Yank my chain like that?”

Steve narrowed his eyes at Bucky. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure where this conversation was headed. “I’m not yanking your chain. Why would I do that? I’m serious, Buck. I want the show to become a two-artist show with you being the other artist.”

“I haven’t done anything to deserve what you’re offering,” Bucky said quietly.

Steve realized Bucky still had self-doubts about whether he could succeed in his chosen career path.

“You’re talented, Buck. I want to give you a shot at carving out a spot for yourself as an artist. I know I have some pull. Let me use it.”

“You’re not doing this just because we’re together, are you?”

Steve knew Bucky had every right to be wary of the optics if anybody knew the extent of their relationship. Regardless of their relationship status, Steve knew Bucky deserved a chance for the art world to discover him.

“No, Buck, I’m not doing this because we’re together. I’m doing this because you’re a talented photographer with so much potential. People need to see your work and come to the same conclusion I did when I first saw it. This art show proves it. The degree you’ve earned proves it too.”

Steve watched Bucky chew his lip while he thought for a moment.

“Obviously Sam knows you want to do this. Does Triskelion Art know about what you want, too?” Bucky asked.

“Yes, Sam knows and the owners know. Sam showed them some of your images and they’re on board with my idea of turning it into a two-artist show. They loved your images.”

“What images of mine did they see? I know I never gave them anything to look at.”

Steve blushed and felt awkward, all of a sudden. He took a sip of the red wine he had been nursing the entire evening.

“Steve, what images did they see to make them say ‘yes’ to me?”

“Well…”

“Steve…”

“I sent Sam a few images from the portrait session.”

“You didn’t send them the shower shots, did you?”

“No, those are for us. I sent ones where I was wearing clothes. I sent the one where I was making coffee. There was the one in the hammock. There was the one you took of me standing next to the image Nat took. And I sent the overall shot of the studio. They probably think I’m wearing shorts in that one.”

“On the strength of those images, they said ‘yes’?”

“That’s what Sam said. You can call him to confirm if you like.”

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed. “Okay, it’s just… I’m shocked. I honestly don’t know what to say… How about... What the fuck.”

Steve smiled fondly at his reaction. “So, are you saying ‘yes’ to the show?”

“Who wouldn’t? Of course, it’s yes. Yeah, I’d love to do this show with you.” He paused. “Holy shit,” he muttered. “Now, I gotta think about what size to make the prints. You’re gonna have to help me decide because I don’t know how big your pieces are gonna be. Then there’s the cost of printing; how should they be presented; do I have to put a price tag on them… oh, man, there’s a lot to consider. Wait, is there a theme? Do we need a theme to tie everything together?”

Steve chuckled softly, watching Bucky try to catch up with his thoughts which seemed to be zooming around his head at about a hundred miles per hour.

“It’ll be alright, Buck. We’ll figure out all this stuff together.” 

Bucky nodded, smiling. “Yeah, we will. I’m just nervous and overthinking… I think. We should tell Mom and Becca.”

Steve gently squeezed his shoulder. “We will. I’m just gonna let you get used to the idea that you’re going to have your official art show in a few months while I get more of that hummus,” he said. “God, that stuff is good. I need to learn how to make it.”

“It’s really easy to make, and you can experiment with flavors. I’ll show you when we get back to Shelbyville,” Bucky said almost absentmindedly as he began to lose himself in his thoughts again.

• • • • •

“I should be dead on my feet.” Bucky stuck the key into the deadbolt to open the apartment door. “But I don’t think I’m ready to crash yet.”

“It was a big night for you, Buck,” Steve reasoned, following him into the apartment. “You probably still have a lot of adrenaline pumping through your body.” 

“Yeah, Mom and Becca were so happy to see all the artwork. And then they cried when I told them about the New York show with you. I swear, Mom was going to have a heart attack.”

“Same. I have never seen her that excited. Good thing we told her the news on the way to the car.”

“I can’t believe Becca is ordering Italian beef sandwiches as a late night snack for her and Mom. Those things are huge, greasy, and unfortunately yummy.”

“Did you want to get one?”

“Nah, there’s something in the fridge still that we can have for breakfast tomorrow. It’ll be one of those things where I cook everything before we leave here for good on Sunday.”

Steve chuckled, taking off his jacket and draping it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. It was from there he noticed a large bottle of champagne sitting on the kitchen counter. “Where did you get that?”

“Nat and Sam had it delivered along with a basket of cheese, crackers and chocolate. The note said I was supposed to share with you. The cheese is in the fridge and it’s coming home with me along with everything that came in the basket, including the champagne. I’ll leave the bottle at your place for a special occasion.”

Steve laughed as he picked up Nat’s hand-written note sitting beside the bottle and read it. He laughed again. He loved how they had embraced Bucky. Nat mentoring Bucky was one of the best things that came from the day they met each other.

“So you’re not going to celebrate getting your Master’s by drinking champagne? That’s a special occasion.”

“I suppose but I think I’d like to save it for the next special occasion whatever that is. Long day, long week. I think I just want to crash and have a good sleep.”

Steve understood Bucky’s desire for sleep. There had been texts and phone calls between them in the days leading up to the opening. Bucky had all this nervous energy and needed to talk to someone who was outside of the academic bubble. All Steve wanted to do was to hug him and hold him until Bucky relaxed. The next best thing he could do was talk to him and take his mind off of it by having mundane conversations about the garden which had doubled in size once the snow melted and his plans to build a root cellar this Summer.

“Since you’re going to make your official debut with me in New York, have you thought about calling Sam about retaining him as your agent?”

“I did think about it for a second, but I haven’t really put a lot of thought into yet.” He grabbed two bottles of sparkling water out of the fridge and handed one to Steve.

“If you get him now, he can help you get the business side of things ready for the show. He would field any inquiries for commissions and other offers you receive which would free you up to do your thing.”

“All for a percentage, right?”

“Yeah, but with Sam, it’ll be worth it. It’s the standard percentage. Nothing outrageous. He’s a fair man. You still have his card, right?”

“I do.” Bucky fished out the card, placed it on the kitchen counter, and mulled over it for a couple of minutes. “I’ll give him a call tomorrow.”

Steve pulled him in for a kiss. “One of the best decisions you’ll ever make.”

Bucky smiled. “I can’t fucking believe I’m going to have my images up in a gallery in New York. What were the chances of that happening right after getting my degree?”

“Not that high, I’m guessing?”

“Probably not.”

“Would you like to celebrate?” Steve smirked.

“If your definition of celebrating involves getting naked and making love to each other, sign me up.”

Looking into blue-grey eyes, Steve knew Bucky was it for him. There would never be anyone else. 

“I love you, Buck. You must know that, right? There’s no one else for me, but you. Only you.”

Bucky beamed. “I know you do. I know you love me. I’ve loved you for a long time. You’re it for me. Just you.”

Steve kissed him again before taking Bucky by the hand and leading him to bed. “Come on. Let me show you how much I love you.”

• • • • •

The morning sunlight streaming into the studio apartment had Bucky fluttering his eyes open. He turned to find Steve still asleep, naked and tangled in the bed sheets. Yawning as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, Bucky padded to the kitchen for a glass of water.

He stared at Sam's business card with his personal cell number written on it. The clock on the microwave indicated it was just after nine in the morning. He figured Sam had to be awake since it was an hour later in New York.

After going to the bathroom, Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter and made the phone call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’d like to speak with Sam?”

“Speaking.”

“Hey, Sam, it’s Bucky.”

“Bucky, good to hear from you. How was the art show? It was last night, right?”

“Yeah, it was last night. It went great. There was a nice spread of appetizers and drinks. Steve was there, along with my mom and Becca. It was a nice evening.”

“Glad, it was successful and you filled your belly full of appetizers. They didn’t cheap out on them, did they?”

“Oh no, they didn’t,” Bucky laughed. “Everything was tasty… So, you probably have a good idea why I’m calling.”

“I can take a wild guess.” Bucky could hear the smile in Sam’s voice.

“Steve asked me if I wanted my work to be part of his gallery exhibit last night and I said yes.” Bucky felt the excitement thrumming through his body again. “So, we talked about it last night and I think it’s time to talk about having you represent me.”

“You know I would love to represent you, Bucky. Do you have a few minutes to discuss what needs to be done? I’ll send you some paperwork on Monday that you’ll need to sign to make things official. Steve can help you sort through that and get a lawyer to look through the contract before you sign on the dotted line. A third party with fresh eyes that has your best interest at heart.”

Bucky grabbed a pad of paper and pen in case he needed to jot down some notes. “Yeah, that would be great. I have some time right now. Steve is still sleeping. He won’t be up for awhile.”

“Cool. First question — do you have a website?”

• • • • •

The scent of bacon and eggs woke Steve up. Looking at his watch that was sitting on the nightstand, he realized it was 11:30 in the morning. Rolling out of bed, he pulled on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and wandered to the kitchen with a growling stomach.

Bucky was in a pair of jeans and t-shirt, standing in front of the stove tending to the eggs. The toaster sat ready with two slices of sourdough bread in it. The hot water kettle was plugged in. The French press and a grinder full of coffee beans sat beside it. 

Steve walked up behind him, slid his arms around Bucky’s waist, and kissed his neck.

“Good morning.” Bucky turned his head to kiss him.

“It’s almost noon. You should have woken me up to help you with lunch.”

“It’s still breakfast as far as I’m concerned, Steve.”

Steve kisses him on the back of the neck again. “Do you want me to get the coffee beans ready? The kettle will probably whistle soon.”

“Sure, if you could do that, please. And if you could start the toaster, that would be great.”

Going through the ritual of grinding the coffee beans and pouring it into the press, Steve smiled to himself, finding all of this so domestic; so perfect and so right. 

“I called Sam while you were sleeping,” Bucky said as he slid the sunny side-up eggs onto their plates. The toast popped up.

“Great! How did it go?” Steve poured the hot water into the French press.

Bucky grabbed the toast to butter it. “Really good. I might put together a website for my work. Haven’t really decided yet. Maybe after the show? It all seems a little overwhelming; I don’t have anything to populate a website. Sam gave me the name of someone who could put together something for me. She did Nat’s website. I took a look at it. It’s really nice.”

“Yeah, Nat’s site is really well done. It’s secure and up to date. Nat is very keen about protecting her images. It’s well-protected against malicious and bored hackers.”

“You never had a website, right?”

“No, I wasn’t interested enough and I managed to be successful without having one. But Sam did talk me into buying my domain name. He was surprised I managed to scoop it up before anybody thought to take it. You should buy your domain name before someone grabs it, though.”

“Sam recommended that already and I own it now.”

“You were busy, I see,” Steve smiled.

“Yeah, my head is still swimming from the conversation. Would you consider having a website?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Again, it’s not something that has a strong presence on my radar.”

“That’s fair. Well, breakfast is ready. Could you grab the orange juice?”

“Sure. Do you have a lot of packing to do?”

“Not a lot. Most of my clothes are packed. I’ll do a load of laundry today and we’re driving back tomorrow morning.”

“Do you want your mother or sister in the car with you tomorrow to keep you company?”

“I’d rather have you but I don’t think that’s going to happen. Becca can ride with me. I’m sure Mom wants to talk about food with you.”

Steve smiled at the thought of talking food with Winnie. “We’re having dinner with them tonight, right?”

“Yeah, we are. We’ll iron out the details for driving back during dinner.”

“What’s happening with your photographs after the student show ends?”

“They’re going to pack it up and courrier back home. I don’t have to drive out here again to pick them up.”

“That’s pretty generous of them to do that.”

“It is. Since I don’t have anything lined up yet in terms of work, I appreciate they’re covering the cost of getting them back to me.”

“So, what are you gonna do?”

“I’ll work at the diner. We need to figure out the October show. Once that’s decided, I’ll know what I need to do in terms of making some money to cover the costs I’m going to incur.” Bucky bit into his toast.

Steve knew what he was going to say next might not sit well with Bucky, but he was going to say it anyway. 

“How about not worrying about covering the costs for the show,” Steve suggested. “I’ll cover the costs.”

Bucky stopped chewing his food for a second before swallowing. “I can’t let you do that.”

“How much do you owe in student loans?”

“About thirty grand.”

“How about you worry about your student loan and I’ll worry about the costs of the show? Anything you need to get your images shot, developed, or printed, I’ll cover it. That includes travel and gas, if necessary. You know I have the money to cover it. If you want, you can pay me back much later. No interest. I’m just helping you until you hit the ground running. I have every confidence in you that you’ll get to do everything you want to do with your life and with your art.”

Bucky glanced down at his plate. “Sometimes, you’re too good for me, Steve.”

Steve grabbed his hands and squeezed them. “No, I’m not. I want to be good enough for you, Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes watered. “Fuck, have I told you that I love you?”

“You have and you can keep saying it until you get tired of me.”

“That’s not ever gonna happen.”

“Good, because I was wondering if you would like to move in with me.”

• • • • •

“You’re moving in together? I knew this would happen but I gotta say I wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon,” Becca said, taking a sip of white wine while she, Winnie, Bucky, and Steve waited for their dinners to arrive. “But I’m not surprised Steve waited until you finished school before he asked. My little goblin is leaving the nest for good.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. While Winnie and Steve chuckled at the sibling discourse. 

“I’m very pleased to hear this,” Winnie added. “I assume all your belongings from the apartment will go straight to Steve’s place?”

“Our place, Winnie,” Steve clarified with a smile. “It’s not my just place anymore. And yes, what stuff he has right now is going straight to our place after we drop you and Becca off.”

Bucky smiled at Steve and squeezed his hand. He loved hearing Steve use pronouns such as ‘we’ and ‘our’ in reference to the two of them.

“Since you’re taking us back home, you might as well pack more clothes to take with you,” Winnie suggested. “Becca and I can definitely dig up some boxes and help with some of the moving.”

“That sounds great, Winnie,” Steve responded. “I wouldn’t mind hauling some more of Bucky’s stuff back to our place.”

“Mom, it sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me,” Bucky joked.

“Just being practical, my darling boy,” she replied. “I’m so happy for you two. Moving in together is exciting and exhausting. So, Becca and I will do what we can to help you get moving and get settled.”

• • • • •

Aside from the chatter Becca provided, for Bucky, the three-and-a-half hour drive back to Shelbyville was uneventful. More than anything, Becca was wholeheartedly behind his and Steve’s next steps. She always had been supportive of the pair. But it didn’t stop her from teasing him about being envious of how stable their sex lives were going to be now that they would be sharing a bed. As much as Bucky cringed at her teasing, he knew it was her way of saying how happy she was for her little brother.

He hoped Steve was faring better with his mother, but he wasn’t quite sure.

Pulling into the driveway, Becca got out of the car and started down the driveway.

“Becs, where are you going?”

“I’m going to pick up Alpine from Anita’s. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Bucky shook his head. Becca loved the little furball and doted on him as if he was her child. They never had pets growing up. It wasn’t something that popped up as a concept for them to embrace as a family. But Alpine’s presence certainly changed things. The fact he had a huge folder on his phone for all the photos of Alpine that Becca sent him was a testament to that.

As Becca turned left from the driveway, she waved at Steve and Winnie who were pulling into the driveway. Bucky walked to the back of Steve’s SUV to open the hatch and pull out his mother’s and Becca’s luggage. 

“Boys, I’m going to unlock the door,” said Winnie. “Just bring in the suitcases, and I’ll go look for some cardboard boxes.”

Bucky noticed Steve knocking down the back seat to make more room for some of Bucky’s possessions that they would be taking in the first round of moving.

“How was the drive with my mom?”

“It was good,” Steve smiled. “She didn’t ask many embarrassing questions if that’s what you were wondering about. She told me some very cute stories about you when you were a baby.”

Bucky groaned. “Oh my God, she didn’t.”

“She did,” Steve grinned. “But once she got that out of the way, we talked about food. Cooking to be more specific. She told me what your favorite foods are; what you won’t eat. She also offered to give me recipes for some of your favorite dishes so I could make them for you.”

“Okay, that’s not bad. It could have been worse.”

“Your sister gave me the shovel talk months ago so your mother wasn’t going to go that route.”

“Becca gave you the shovel talk? I need to talk to her about that.”

“No harm done, Buck,” Steve chuckled. “It wasn’t a real shovel talk. Just a check-in to make sure I knew what I was doing. And I do know what I’m doing.”

“Good to know one of us does.”

“Does this feel like a whirlwind to you? The student art show. The New York exhibit. Me asking you to move in. It’s a hell of a way to cap off a week.”

“The only thing I have to wrap my head around is the New York stuff. I think I need to let it sink in for a couple of days before we can figure out what we’re presenting and how.”

Steve’s eyes were watery for a moment as he smiled and pulled Bucky in for a kiss and a hug. “Come on, let’s go inside and see what we can pack up and take with us.”

• • • • •

“Buck, let’s leave all the stuff in the cars for a minute,” Steve said walking up to Bucky as he was exiting his car. “I wanna show you something.”

Bucky stared at him for a second. He glanced around the property to see if anything had changed from the last time he had been at the house. He didn’t notice anything different. “Uhm, sure. What is it?”

Steve smiled. “Follow me, I’ll show you.”

“Am I going to like whatever you’re planning to show me?”

“You’re going to love it.”

Following Steve through the house, Bucky realized this house was going to be his home. He had so many things to do and numerous places to contact regarding a change in address. The coming week was going to be busy but he knew it was going to be worth it. 

He also wondered how he would fit into this home and into Steve’s life. Ruminating in his thoughts, it was only when they walked into the studio that Bucky realized where they were.

“Steve, what are we doing here?”

“Look around, Buck,” Steve said simply.

Scanning the space, he noticed there was a sliding barn door attached to the exterior wall. It hadn’t been there before. He turned to Steve. “That’s new. Why is it there? Does it actually lead to outside?”

Steve smiled. “Slide open the door and you’ll see.”

Bucky wasn’t sure about the cryptic nature of the request but decided it couldn’t be that bad if Steve said he would love whatever was behind the door. Sliding the door open, Bucky was met by a small square foyer with walls painted black. Locating the light switch, he flipped on the light and noticed a black canvas curtain covering a doorway. All this looked oddly familiar to him.

Then it suddenly hit Bucky.

“Steve, is this what I think it is?”

“What do you think it is?”

“Stop answering my question with a question. Is this what I think it is?”

“You’re gonna have to walk in and see for yourself.”

Bucky stared at the black canvas cloth, uncertain if he really wanted to confirm what Steve had done for him.

“Buck?” Steve asked calmly. “Don’t you want to see what’s behind the curtain?”

“I do… I… I just need to make my feet move.”

“I can give you a nudge if that would help.”

“Maybe you could hold my hand instead?”

“Absolutely, Buck.” 

Steve slid his hand into Bucky’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was enough for Bucky to push aside the curtain. Stepping into the almost pitch black room, Steve flipped on the light switch. Bucky blinked and stared at the rectangular space before him. His throat tightened as tears welled up. He couldn’t believe what Steve had done.

“You did this for me?”

Arms snaked around his waist as Steve hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. “I did. I had a hunch that you’d say yes to living with me so I figured I’d put together a darkroom for you to work in. I did a little research to get the specs right. You can use the studio for drying prints or storing them. Set it up however you need it to work for you. The studio is ours now.”

Bucky stared at the stainless steel darkroom sink that occupied one side of the room. The water taps were equipped with a water temperature control panel. Steve even went as far as putting up a backsplash behind the sink to keep the drywall from rotting. 

“If you were wondering, I used cement board instead of drywall on the sink side,” said Steve. “The backsplash is extra insurance.”

There were metal shelves above the sink for the darkroom chemicals and tools Bucky would need easy access to. Everything was made for easy cleanup and for withstanding chemical stains.

There was a ventilation air exchange unit to draw out the smell of the chemicals and bring in fresh air. The darkroom floor was covered in ceramic tile with a floor drain under the sink. Easy to clean and the drain would help with unexpected spills. 

On the other side of the darkroom was a countertop that ran the length of the room. Shelves, wire racks, and drawers occupied the space underneath it. Floating shelves were added as well. Bucky turned to find the safelight above the entrance and the switch for it on the same wall as the sink.

Bucky was floored by all of this. He knew how much setting this up cost Steve because he had been dreaming of having his own darkroom and had priced one out just to see how much he needed to pull it off. 

Bucky couldn’t believe the thought Steve had put into creating this space for him. Tears began to fall. He quickly wiped them away. Steve had made room for him in his home and life. Steve was showing his commitment to him.

“You like it, right?” Steve asked, looking cautiously hopeful.

Bucky grabbed him and kissed him. Steve groaned into the kiss, pulling Bucky flush against his body. They kissed for another minute before they stopped to catch their breath.

“I love you, Steve. This darkroom is incredible. When did you get the idea to do this and when did you add this to the house?”

“I thought about it back at Christmas. I talked to Becca and Winnie about it—”

“Wait. They knew about this?”

“Yes, they did.”

“The three of you are thick as thieves. Honestly, I thought I could have you to myself.”

Steve laughed. “You do have me to yourself. But they do like me so I can’t really fault them for being great judges of character.”

“Wow, you are full of yourself today,” Bucky chuckled. “I can’t wait to make my first print here. This is gonna be great. If you’re interested in brushing up on your printmaking skills, I can certainly give you a refresher course.”

“I just might take you up on that. Let’s get your stuff inside and figure out where everything should go.”

“You know that bottle of champagne is in my car,” Bucky remarked. “Maybe we should chill it and celebrate our first night of officially living together a little later.” He gave a sly smile.

Steve smirked. “Yeah, we should definitely celebrate.”


	14. New York, New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky get ready for the opening of their NYC art show. But before they head east, Steve has a surprise for Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy Monday! Oh goodness, this is the second last chapter of the story. Wow, times flies.
> 
> In this instalment, you finally get to see the art Middi created for the story. She did a fabulous job with it. And I'd like to think it was worth going through the previous chapters to get to this point. It illustrates a sweet soft moment between the boys.
> 
> Thank you again for following the story and leaving lovely little comments for me and Middi to read. Y'all are so kind. Enjoy and see you for the final chapter this Friday!

“Seriously, someone is coming here to pick up everything that is going to New York?”

“Yes. Sam and Maria made the arrangements. Everything will arrive there safely. Besides, everything is insured.” 

Steve had checked over the boxes containing his drawings and paintings. All the boxes had migrated from the studio to the living room. They were carefully marked, catalogued, lined up, and ready to be shipped over to Triskelion Art.

“But they’re one of a kind. They’re kind of irreplaceable, right?” Bucky was working on his list of images that were packaged and marked in the same manner.

“Yes, they’re irreplaceable but that’s why you made impeccable photographs of every single piece before they were packed into boxes.”

“That’s for record keeping.”

“Yes, but you also made the files large enough that they could be made into giclee prints. If the originals are lost, then at least I can print limited editions of the drawings if I wanted to go that route.”

“True. But I would just hate to hear that they got lost on the way there or were damaged. You put in a lot of work.”

“So did you. You traveled to Chicago to work with several art models over the Summer to get what you needed for the show. They’re stunning images, Buck. You should be proud.”

For the show Steve had created twenty pieces all done in either charcoal, ink, colored pencil or watercolor or a combination of mediums. Bucky had created twenty black and white images for the show. 

“I am pretty proud of them,” Bucky admitted. “I had a lot of fun working with the models. The ones with a dance background were incredible to work with. All of them were so enthusiastic about collaborating with me.”

“It shows in the images.”

Once they had determined that the theme for their art show centered around the idea of longing and desire as expressed through the human body, Bucky was laser-focused on what needed to be done.

Watching Bucky continue to develop his eye and grow as an artist over the Summer months filled Steve immense pride and pleasure. Every little detail about putting together his images for the show excited Bucky. It was even more fun to see Bucky come out of the darkroom with a huge grin on his face, wanting to show him some of the images he had just printed. Watching Bucky’s excitement and engagement in the process had Steve excited about the show in a way he hadn’t felt towards art for a long time. He had lost that excitement a year or two before he left New York. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that feeling until he was in the middle of it with Bucky.

Looking over at Bucky, he watched him go through his checklist, making sure everything was ready and waiting to go with the courier who was scheduled to arrive at their doorstep within the next half hour. He put his hand in his jean pocket to confirm the item that had been sitting there for the last two weeks hadn’t suddenly disappeared or gotten lost somewhere on the property. That would have been a disaster. 

Before he knew it, Bucky was standing in front of him with a curious expression. 

“Earth to Steve. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. I was just thinking. Uhm, did you say something?”

“I said I was done taking inventory of my stuff and I was wondering if you were done too.”

“Yeah, I’m done. Hey, we’ll be in New York in three weeks. Are you excited yet?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m excited. But we gotta go through the garden and harvest what we can before we leave. We don’t want to come back to overripe and rotting vegetables.”

“Yeah, we’ll take care of that. The root cellar is ready, so we can just move them straight in there when we start harvesting. Should be any day now.” Steve paused for a moment. “Let’s hang out in the hammock until the courier arrives.”

“Sure, it’s a beautiful day and the leaves are pretty colorful.”

• • • • •

  
  


Climbing into the hammock, Bucky automatically snuggled into Steve’s arms. He loved lying in the hammock with Steve, just looking out at their little world. The light from the afternoon autumn sun danced on the leaves that were undulating in the breeze. His blue hoodie was perfect for this weather. It didn’t hurt that Steve was perpetually warm so he never had to think about being cold.

He felt Steve place a kiss on the top of his head. He chuckled. “What was that for?”

“I just felt like doing it,” Steve replied. “Let me know if you want me to stop.”

“Nah, keep doing it. It feels good.”

“You like it when I’m affectionate.” 

“I do. I also like it when you’re horny and you get a little demanding.”

“That’s because when you’re horny, you get bratty until I have to do something to keep you in line.”

Bucky laughed. “You know what my favorite moment in this hammock has been so far?”

“What moment would that be? We’ve had many that could contend for that spot.”

“Watching the neighbors set off fireworks for your birthday.”

“They were setting off fireworks because it was the fourth of July. They don’t know it also happens to be my birthday.”

“Humor me. I like to think that the neighbors like you enough to do something a little extra for your birthday. Let me have that.”

Steve laughed, and held him tighter. “The birthday dinner was delicious. You really outdid yourself. The whole day was incredible. I can’t remember ever having so much sex. I was truly spoiled.”

“You got stamina,” Bucky noted. “I’ll give you that. You gave as good as you got.”

“I’m gonna remember that birthday because it was the first one I spent with you here in our home,” Steve said softly in a sentimental tone.

Bucky bit his lower lip. “Well, shit. You are a sap.”

Steve smiled. “Well, even though I can’t really argue with why that’s your favorite, I think there’s one that will be in contention for favorite, if not best moment in this hammock.”

Bucky gave him a curious expression. “Oh? What moment was that?” 

He watched Steve reach into his pocket to pull something out. “That moment hasn’t happened yet. But it’s happening now.” 

Bucky focused on the object sitting between Steve’s thumb, index, and middle fingers. His eyes widened. It was a black titanium band with a rose gold inlay. Embedded in the inlay was a square diamond. He shifted his gaze onto Steve’s face who was radiating with love. Bucky sat up, unable to utter a word. Steve held Bucky’s left hand, gently caressing his thumb over his fourth finger.

“You’re everything I ever wanted in a partner. You’ve made me a better version of myself. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Marry me, Buck.”

Bucky didn’t realize he was crying until he felt a tear run down his cheek and he began to sniffle.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” he smiled.

Steve placed the ring on his finger and pulled Bucky in for a kiss. They didn’t stop kissing until they heard the sound of the courier truck coming up the gravel driveway. Catching their breath, they laughed. Bucky looked at the ring on his finger and beamed. 

“It’s stunning, Steve. And somehow it fits perfectly. You should have one, too.”

“Actually, I do have one. It matches this one.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. “Shouldn’t I have been the one to buy you a ring?”

Steve shrugged. “Maybe? I wanted to pick it up since they were the only two the jeweler made. He’s also going to make the wedding rings but he’s expecting us to make the decision together on the design. You can put it on my finger after the courier takes the boxes.”

“We have to call Sam and Nat and drive over to the diner to give Becca and mom the news.”

“You realize no one is going to be surprised by this,” Steve said climbing out of the hammock. He extended his hand to Bucky to help him up.

“Yeah, they’re probably gonna wonder why it took so damn long for you to propose,” Bucky said with a touch of cheek.

Steve shook his head. “Sure, make me the bad guy.”

• • • • •

They arrived in New York several days before the opening so Steve could show Bucky where he grew up. Visiting all of the places he and Sam used to hang out had proved to be an adventure for both of them.

This was Bucky’s first trip to the Big Apple and while Manhattan was exciting to visit, he was more excited about going to Brooklyn to see Steve’s old stomping grounds.

Steve wasn’t sure how he would feel about returning but once he started looking at the metropolitan city through Bucky’s eyes, he couldn’t help but see the place in a less jaded light.

Sam and Nat wanted to pick them up and had waited for them in the arrivals section at LaGuardia airport. They had news of their own to share that made Steve and Bucky stop cold in their tracks when they spotted her protruding belly indicating that they had a child on the way.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Steve asked with surprise. “Why didn’t either of you say anything the last time we spoke on the phone.”

“I think seeing the evidence and both of your reactions is far more entertaining,” Nat replied, still wrapped in a tight hug with Bucky.

“How far along are you?” Bucky asked.

“Second trimester. I’ll be going into my fifth month soon. I’m done with morning sickness for now.”

“Is this why you two didn’t come out to Indiana this Summer?” Steve asked.

“Partially,” Sam replied. “When Bucky moved in with you, we figured we’d let you two have the Summer to yourselves without us getting in the way.”

“Then I wasn’t feeling well,” Nat added. “It felt like morning sickness. One of those pregnancy stick tests gave me positive reading but I had it confirmed by the doctor.”

“And we wanted to surprise you guys. Then we wanted to figure out what the house needed in order to be child-proofed and started looking for baby stuff,” Sam chimed in. “Also we had relatives giving us non-stop advice on being first-time parents. So, we had to rein them in a bit. They were also generous with hand-me-downs so we had to go through all that to see what we’d like to have.”

“Honestly, there are grandchildren on both sides of our families but you’d think we were giving everyone a first-born heir or something,” Nat said, shaking her head.

Steve and Bucky laughed at the Wilson-Romanoff pregnancy chronicles.

The drive to their hotel had been filled with talk of babies and the art exhibition. Steve and Bucky were thrilled to see Sam and Nat in person rather than through video calls, phone calls or texts. However, because of everyone’s schedules, this would be the only time they could chat until they all met up again at Triskelion Art the day before opening night to finalize the layout and placement of the pieces within the gallery’s space. 

• • • • •

After a fifteen-minute cab ride from downtown Brooklyn to East Williamsburg, Steve and Bucky found themselves standing in front of the gallery.

“Are you ready, Buck?” Steve asked. “Everything is being installed right now, according to Sam. He and Nat are inside waiting for us.”

Steve could feel the nervous energy radiating off his fiancé as he stared at the building. He squeezed his hand to capture his attention. 

“Yeah, I’m ready,” he replied. “I just didn’t think I would be so nervous about going into a gallery.”

Steve smiled fondly at him. “Just take a deep breath. Everything arrived the way it left our place. That’s more than half the battle right there. You saw the virtual tour of the space and we got to talk to Maria, Wanda, and Helen. You know they’re beyond thrilled with the content of our show. I have the copy of the layout of the space sitting in my back pocket. It’s gonna look unbelievable, Buck.”

“I know, I know. I’m just worried I’m gonna pass out or something.”

“You’re not going to pass out on me,” Steve smiled, rubbing his thumb over Bucky’s hand. “I think we’ll both be speechless. Let’s go in and see. Everyone is waiting for us.”

Walking through the doors and into a lobby/reception area, both men heard Sam’s and Nat’s voices mingle with other voices floating out from the gallery. Following the voices, they found themselves in the gallery. 

“Holy shit,” Bucky said in awe. “This looks fantastic.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Steve grinned.

Most of their pieces were up on the soft neutral gray walls. There were a couple of people busy preparing to hang one of Bucky’s images next to one of Steve’s black ink and watercolor pieces. There were a handful of photographs and paintings left to install and Steve could not have been happier. He glanced at Bucky who was wide-eyed with wonder and astonishment that his images were occupying space in one of the most highly-regarded galleries in New York City.

Upon hearing their voices, Sam turned to look at them and smiled. “Hey, look who’s here,” he said aloud. Nat and three women paused their conversation to watch Sam walk over to them to give them a hug.

“This show looks awesome, guys,” Sam said as he embraced Steve. “There are gonna be a couple of reporters from a couple of art magazines and one from _The_ _New York Times_ who will be coming here to interview the both of you.”

“Not all at once, right?” Bucky asked as he took his turn to hug Sam. 

“No, not all at once. The first one is arriving in twenty minutes. The next one will be forty-five minutes after that. Same for the last one.”

“Is there any reason, they’re doing the interviews today?” Steve asked. “I thought they would have wanted to do them earlier like the others did over the phone.”

“I’m under the impression that the _Times_ is running the story tomorrow for the Saturday edition,” Sam replied. “They’re actually the first of the three to interview you and Bucky. As for the magazines, the interviews will appear in their next issues and they won’t hit the stands for another two weeks. They’re probably cutting it close with their production schedules. Come on, there are some people who want to meet you in person.”

They walked over to Nat and the three women who Steve and Bucky instantly recognized as the gallery’s owners. 

“Hi Maria, it’s nice to finally meet face-to-face,” Steve said, reaching out to shake their hands. 

“We couldn’t agree more,” the tall, dark-haired woman replied, shaking his hand. “Your work is stunning.” She looked at Bucky and shook his hand. “Your photographic images are equally stunning. You compliment each other so well.”

“Thank you, that’s very generous of you to say,” Bucky replied as he continued on to shake Wanda’s and Helen’s hands.

“I’m not being generous,” Maria countered. “I’m being honest. Your artists’ statement is a great read. It’s printed in the show brochure along with Nat’s response and analysis of the work. Have either of you read it yet?”

“No, not yet,” Bucky replied.

“It’s a well-written and thoughtful reaction to the work in this space. I think you’ll like it.”

“So, you said some nice things?” Steve asked Nat, giving her a questioning and playful look.

“I did, in fact,” she answered. “I was glowing about Bucky’s work and I might have said some positive things about your work, too.” Then she winked at him.

Steve shook his head while Bucky gave her a hug. 

“If you and Bucky would like to take a look at the installation and check to see that everything is where it should be that would be great,” said Helen. “If there’s any sort of discrepancy, let me or Wanda know and we’ll make adjustments where they’re needed.”

“Yes, we would love to take a look. Come on, Buck. Let’s take a tour of the show and see if it’s what we envisioned.”

Starting at the entrance to the exhibition space, Steve and Bucky slowly made their way around the large room. They examined the pieces hanging on the perimeter walls before looking at the small maze of free-standing walls that displayed more of their work.

After exploring the exhibit and fielding a couple of questions from the people who were installing their pieces, Steve found himself satisfied with how everything was falling into place. He spied Bucky walking around taking photographs of the exhibit with his digital camera. He walked over to Bucky.

“So, what do you think?”

“I can’t believe how amazing this looks,” Bucky effused. “We talked about it. We decided where everything should go and how everything should flow within the space but that was hypothetical at best because we never walked through the space to get a sense of the expanse of the room. I think we got fucking lucky that it turned out better than we imagined.”

“Yeah, we definitely got lucky,” Steve agreed. “This is really a beautiful space and I’m glad the ladies wanted our work in their gallery.”

“Actually, they wanted you. I came after the fact,” Bucky clarified.

“I stand corrected. But after they saw samples of your work, they were completely on board with making it a two-artist show.”

The sound of new voices bouncing off the gallery walls caught their attention. Steve was the first to turn and look in the direction of the voices. He saw Sam and Nat greeting two people, a photographer and a reporter.

“Looks like our first interviewer is here, Buck.”

“I’ve never done an interview with a newspaper before.”

“Just answer the questions unless it’s something you don’t want to discuss. You’re not obligated to answer everything they ask. They should respect your right to decline questions,” Steve advised.

“Is discussion about our relationship off limits to them?”

“That would depend on the kinds of questions the reporter asks. The interview is supposed to focus on the work.”

“But the work is about us, isn’t it?”

“It is, but they don’t need to know everything. Any questions that come up, I’ll handle if that’s alright with you.”

“You go ahead. I’ll watch and listen. By the way, I’m fine if the world knows we’re together. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

Steve turned to look at Bucky and smiled. “I feel the exact same way about you too.”

• • • • •

Steve woke to the bed shaking from the movement of the person lying beside him for a good thirty seconds before it went still. Opening one eye, he turned his head to find Bucky awake tapping away at his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Just playing with a coloring app.”

“A what?”

“It’s like a digital coloring book for adults,” he explained. “It’s kinda relaxing.”

Steve turned his head in the other direction and looked at the hotel digital clock sitting on the nightstand. The glowing blue numbers indicated it was six in the morning.

“Buck, it’s too early to be awake. Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah. I think it’s because today is the day. I’m restless and a little too wound up.”

“And you thought a digital coloring app would help?”

“I was hoping I’d fall asleep coloring something.”

“Is it working?”

“Not quite.”

Steve was sympathetic to Bucky’s sleepless plight. Since they didn’t have anything to do until lunch, he had to try something that would give Bucky a few hours of sleep. 

“Bucky, put that away, please,” Steve requested as he propped himself up into an elbow. Obediently, Bucky placed the phone back on the nightstand beside his side of the king-sized bed.

“Good. Now come here,” Steve growled, pulling Bucky towards himself until their naked bodies were pressed against each other. Bucky automatically wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, pleasantly welcoming his overtures. “Let’s see if we can do something that will make you tired enough to go to sleep.”

Steve listened to Bucky groan as he slipped his tongue into his mouth. Gliding his hand down between their bodies, Steve curled his hand around Bucky’s cock. It didn’t take long for it to thicken and stiffen. Bucky whined, becoming restless and squirming underneath Steve for an entirely different reason that had nothing to do with opening night jitters.

“Steve.”

“Yes, Buck?”

“This is way more fun than coloring a basket of croissants.”

“I’m glad you see it my way.”

“Your new haircut gives you some badass bedhead too.”

Steve chuckled against Bucky’s throat, looking for a sweet spot to leave a bruise.

• • • • •

Walking along the Bowery hand-in-hand with a more relaxed Bucky, Steve was excited to meet up with everyone at his favorite Chinese restaurant, Xiaoshan, an eatery well-known for its noodles and dumplings. 

Since arriving in New York, Bucky had been craving pork and shrimp dumplings and Chinese food in general. When he learned that Winnie, Becca, Sam, and Nat wanted to get together for lunch on the day of the opening of the exhibit, Steve had suggested the restaurant for their pre-event meal.

“Are we almost there yet?” Bucky asked.

“Are you saying you’re hungry?”

“I’m not gonna lie, my mouth is watering at the thought of sinking my teeth into dumplings, potstickers, and thick spicy noodles. So yeah, I’m hungry.”

“We’re almost there. I can see their awning from here.”

Bucky looked farther down the block to see if he could spot the red, white, black, and gold awning. He smiled when he spotted it.

• • • • •

As they were led to a table for six, Steve noticed the restaurant hadn’t changed much from the last time he visited the place more than five years ago. The dark wood-stained wainscotting and original copper burnished ceiling were still intact and in good condition. But the wallpaper that had been yellowing with age and cigarette smoke was replaced with painted murals of the landscapes of Northern China, making the dining area brighter than before. The dark wood floors had been refinished and looked almost brand new. New lighting fixtures updated the look and offered a slightly more elegant energy to the space.

The restaurant was as busy as ever, and Steve was grateful they had made a reservation. Bucky and Steve noticed they were the first to arrive as they settled into their seats. Minutes later, Winnie and Becca joined them after a morning of sight-seeing around Manhattan. 

The women had arrived three days ago. Sam met them at the airport, informing them that Nat would have been there to greet them but the morning sickness had gotten the better of her so she opted to stay home and rest. 

Even though they were staying in the same hotel, today would be the first time Steve, Bucky, Winnie, and Becca would all be in the same room at the same time. But it was something that didn’t bother the Barnes women at all. They were too busy trying to jam as much as they could into their three-day visit.

On their first full day in the city, Winnie and Becca went on a guided tour of the five boroughs. Yesterday was spent at Central Park and its zoo. Today, they had spent the morning walking from the hotel, slowly making their way to the restaurant. After lunch, they were planning to head back to the hotel with Steve and Bucky to rest and get ready for the gallery opening tonight. 

“Wow, this is a cool place,” Becca remarked. “And the food smells really great.”

“How has the sight-seeing been going?” Steve asked.

“Really good,” Winnie replied. “So many places to wander around though. It would be too easy to forget what time it is.”

“How was the guided tour and the zoo?” Bucky asked. “Was it as interesting as you hoped it would be?”

“Oh, yes it was,” Winnie replied happily. “Coney Island was the best stop only because we were there for an hour.”

“Mom was checking out all the food vendors to see what they were offering,” Becca added. “I think she’s cooking up some ideas in that mind of hers.”

“Wonderful, I’m looking forward to tasting those experiments,” Steve smiled, thinking about what Winnie could possibly have been inspired to add to the diner’s menu.

“Ah, thank you, Steven,” Winnie responded. “I do indeed have a few ideas I’d like to play with. And before you ask, no, I’m not going to tell you what they might be.”

“Did you at least taste some of the food along the boardwalk?” Bucky asked.

“She didn’t,” Becca replied. “And she hasn’t said a word to me about what caught her eye or her nose.”

“I heard the word ‘boardwalk.’ Are we talking about Coney Island?” 

Everyone at the table looked up to see Sam and Nat smiling at them. 

“In fact, we were, Sam,” Steve replied. “Come take a seat. We were waiting for you before we ordered.”

Winnie was the first to get up from her seat and give the couple a hug.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked Nat.

“I’m doing much better,” she replied. “My body hasn’t revolted on me since the day you arrived. I honestly thought my time bent over the toilet from morning sickness was done once I got into the second trimester.”

“It might be a one-time thing,” Winnie suggested. “When I was pregnant with these two, I didn’t get morning sickness until months seven and eight. Thankfully it stopped weeks before their due dates. I was not impressed but they were worth it. To be honest, I could have been worse off.”

“Mom, you know it wasn’t our fault that your biology had a particular way of doing things, right?” Becca asked in a sympathetic tone.

“I know you didn’t mean to. Sometimes you never know how your body will react. You work with what you’re given. And that’s exactly what I’m going to tell you when you fall in love, get married and give me a grandchild.”

“Mom, seriously, I think you’re going to have to wait a while on that one. You could ask those two over there if they have any plans to have kids.”

Steve almost choked on his glass of water and Bucky started laughing.

“Okay, before we go there, Steve and I have not discussed bringing kids into our lives,” Bucky stated. “If one of us is thinking about it, we’ll discuss it first before we make any sort of commitment and announcement.”

Wiping away the water he spattered over his place setting, Steve cleared his throat. “I can confirm that kids haven’t been a topic of discussion for us. And we’ll just leave it at that, for now.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, boys,” Winnie said, returning to her seat. “You do whatever makes you happy. If children aren’t part of the picture, I’m fine with that.” She looked at Becca. “Don’t worry, I was just teasing. I know you won’t consider children until you’ve met the one who’s right for you.”

With everyone seated, all eyes were on the menus in their hands. 

“My god, everything looks delicious,” Becca remarked. “Did you try everything on the menu at least once, Steve?”

“I’m pretty sure I did. And I see they’ve updated their menu,” he replied.

“Is there anything you would recommend?” Winnie asked.

“You can’t go wrong with anything on the menu,” Steve replied. “A side of dumplings with a bowl of noodles always hits the spot. The portions are always generous so don’t be surprised if you have to ask for a container for the leftovers.”

“Well, I’m quite confident I’ll clean the plate,” Nat stated. “The little one has been a ravenous creature these days.”

“Have you picked out names for the baby yet?” Becca asked.

“We have,” Sam replied, holding his wife’s hand. “We have a shortlist of boy names and girl names. We’ll wait a couple of days after the birth to decide on the name.”

“We heard stories of couples who had a name picked out for their baby,” Nat added. “But once they looked at the child, the name they had chosen didn’t seem to suit the baby so they had to scramble to come up with another. We’re trying not to have our heart set on a name only to find out it really doesn’t suit the child.” 

“Besides, we have enough names shortlisted that one of them is bound to suit the kid,” Sam said confidently.

“Are you interested in the gender of the baby or do you want to be surprised when the child is born?” Winnie inquired.

“The doctor asked us if we wanted to know at the last appointment and we told her that we wanted it to be a surprise,” Nat replied. “As long as the baby is healthy — and it is — that’s all we really care about.”

The conversation was temporarily interrupted by the arrival of the server who delivered two pots of oolong tea to the table and asked if they were ready to place their orders. Quickly writing down everyone’s orders, she headed back to the kitchen.

“So, Bucky, are you ready for this evening’s opening?” Sam asked.

“I’ll admit to being a bit terrified,” he replied. 

That admission compelled Steve to reach under the table to gently squeeze Bucky’s knee. That earned him a shy smile from his fiancé.

“There’s nothing to be terrified about,” Sam assured. “The write-up in the New York Times was great and you handled yourself very well in all the interviews yesterday.”

“Wait, they’re in _The_ _New York Times_?” Becca asked in surprise. “Bucky, why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “I forgot?”

“Are you kidding me? You forgot?” Becca burst out laughing. “Okay, that does it. We’re going to pick up several copies of the paper to take home with us.”

“I’m sure it’s online,” Bucky countered. “You could just print out a copy of the interview at home.”

“Not the same,” Becca noted. “Newsprint makes it official. It’s physical, tangible proof.”

“She does have a point, Buck,” Steve said in agreement. “It’s similar to how you feel about shooting with film and making prints in a darkroom. In its purest form, the newspaper is an artifact, a record of an event or a moment in time.”

“Are there photos to go with the interview?” Winnie asked excitedly.

“A photographer was there to take our picture,” Steve replied. “She was very nice. A bright and smart woman. She was playfully giving the reporter the gears about something while she was photographing us. We haven’t seen the paper yet so we don’t know if any of the images she took ran with the article.”

That was Nat’s cue to pull out a section of the newspaper from her tote bag and hand it over to Becca. “They used three images,” Nat clarified. “I know the photographer who shot them. Shuri is a lovely young woman. She’s an excellent sports photographer who is also skilled at portraiture. She’s around Bucky’s age. And she has an incredibly bright future ahead of her.”

Steve watched Becca and Winnie eagerly unfold the paper in search of the interview. Becca gasped and almost squealed when she discovered it was a cover story for the Weekend Arts section front. Winnie beamed at what she was seeing. 

“You boys look wonderful,” she said. “And I’m not saying that because I’m biased.”

“Could you show us what the front page looks like?” Bucky asked, trying to get a glimpse of what his mother and sister were seeing.

Becca turned the section around for everyone at the table to see. Steve loved the three images chosen to accompany the article. The main image was of him and Bucky flanked by their respective works. Bucky sat straddled with his elbows resting on the back of the chair. Steve stood beside him, leaning against the wall with both hands in his pocket with his feet crossed at the ankles. The secondary and tertiary images were tight shots of their work.

“What are the chances that we could get the digital file of that image sent to us?” Bucky asked. 

“I can text Shuri and ask,” Nat replied. “I’m pretty certain that she wouldn’t have a problem sending that and perhaps throw in a few more of her favorites from the interview.”

“That would be great, Nat. Thanks,” said Steve. “She did a great job. I’m pleasantly surprised by it.”

“I think this should be your engagement picture,” Becca announced.

Sam, Nat and Winnie snickered. Steve laughed out loud.

Bucky groaned. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Are you telling me you and Steve already had engagement photos taken and didn’t bother to show us?” Becca asked.

“No, we haven’t thought about engagement photos,” Bucky replied. “Most of those pictures are goddamn cheesy.”

“Buck, we are kinda cheesy,” interrupted Steve.

“Not _that_ kind of cheesy.”

“Well, maybe we should consider that image and the others Shuri took of us as the closest thing to an engagement photo we’ll ever have. You gotta admit it’s a great shot of us.”

“It is a great shot of us. I don’t want to sully it by slapping the words ‘engagement photo’ to it. That’s just blasphemy. Sam, you and Nat never had engagement photos, right?”

“Oh God, no,” he replied. “Nat didn’t want them for the exact same reason you expressed.”

“Well, you guys think whatever you want,” Becca said. “I’m considering this image my little goblin and his fiancé’s engagement picture.”

Sam chuckled. “I’ve heard you call him goblin before but right now, it sounds really funny. It’s unbelievably precious. I love it.”

Nat couldn’t stop smiling at Bucky who instantly turned three shades of pink.

“The only person who gets to call me ‘little goblin’ is Becca,” Bucky stated. “Steve doesn’t even call me that.”

“What does he call you?” Nat smirked as she sipped her cup of tea.

“That’s between Buck and me,” Steve chimed in, laughing. “I think you guys would gag if I told you. I wouldn’t want to ruin your appetite since I see lunch is headed our way.”

Everyone looked in the direction of the waitress who was followed by two other servers carrying their orders. As the meals were placed on the table, Steve grabbed one of the tea pots to top up everybody’s cups. He listened as everyone murmured and inspected each other’s dishes. As Steve sat back in his seat, Bucky leaned over and whispered in his ear.

“We’ll need to make a print of that shot and hang it somewhere in the house. I really love that image.”

Steve kissed his cheek and whispered back. “I do, too, Buck.”

• • • • •

Steve and Bucky arrived ninety minutes before the first guests were scheduled to arrive at Triskelion Art. Steve had apologized for arriving so early but Bucky was restless and they decided the best thing to do to settle Bucky’s nerves was to be at the gallery. Maria, Wanda and Helen didn’t mind their presence one bit. They were understanding of Bucky’s butterflies and found Steve taking care of him endearing.

It didn’t take long for them to start helping Wanda and Helen with the setting up of tables for the caterer to use to serve the hors d’oeuvres and wine. Afterwards, the women insisted they relax before the guests arrived.

Tucked away in a corner of the gallery, Steve tidied up Bucky’s appearance. His hair had become slightly disheveled from moving the tables. If Steve was being honest with himself, it was simply an excuse to get tactile‚ in an innocent manner, with Bucky before the controlled chaos of opening night descended upon them.

“I don’t know why we couldn’t have gone to the washroom to make sure we look presentable,” Bucky remarked. “You don’t have to dote on me. That’s Mom’s job.”

“To be honest, if we went to the washroom, I probably would have locked it so I could go down on you undisturbed. But you make too much noise, so it really wouldn’t have been a good idea,” Steve said calmly as he adjusted the collar of Bucky’s black shirt and the silver cuffs that adorned the charcoal grey suit Bucky picked up the second day they were in New York during a shopping excursion, with a little help from Steve. The suit was actually a three-piece suit but Bucky opted to forego the vest because he felt it was too fancy for the opening.

The whole outfit from the shirt, suit, cufflinks, and black leather ankle boots were purchased during said excursion. Steve had wanted Bucky to look his best for tonight and convinced the younger man to let him buy the clothes as a gift.

“Why do you tell me shit like that at the most inconvenient times?” Bucky asked.

“Because I wanted to see you were listening to me,” Steve replied with a mischievous grin.

“I always listen to you,” Bucky stated. “You’re just trying to get me riled up. You weren’t going to do that, were you? Blow me? That would have been cutting it a little too close with guests arriving. And by the way, I can be quiet.”

“Only if I gag you.”

Bucky’s cheeks turned pink. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Steve chuckled as he patted down the lapel of Bucky’s suit. “There. You look appropriate and ready.”

“Only appropriate?”

“You’re always more than appropriate in public, Buck. Anything inappropriate is between the two of us.” 

Steve adjusted the silver and pearl cuff links on his royal blue suit. Bucky reached out to straighten his gun metal grey silk tie that complimented both the suit and the light pink shirt.

“I think you should wear this shade of pink more often,” Bucky remarked. “Somehow it brings out your eyes.”

“It doesn’t give me a ruddy complexion and make me look like I downed an entire bottle of whisky?”

“No, it adds a little color to your skin,” Bucky smiled.

“Are you ready?”

“For what’s about to happen? Hell no. But let’s do it anyway.”

As guests filtered into the gallery, Steve and Bucky spotted Becca and Winnie wandering in looking at the entire space. The women quickly caught sight of the men and immediately walked over to hug them.

“This looks fantastic, little goblin,” Becca said, hugging Bucky. “This whole setup is ‘wow’ times a thousand.”

“Thanks, Becs. It feels a little surreal.”

“This is a hell of an opportunity,” she reminded him. “Remember to enjoy it and make the most of what will come out of this. I’m so proud of you.”

“Oh, Steve, this looks so wonderful,” Winnie gushed as she hugged him. “Just to think you and James created this work and this show… I don’t know what to say except I’m so proud of my boy and you. I only wish George was here to see this.”

“Thank you, Winnie. Do you think he would have approved of his son posing naked for me?”

“I think he would have been fine with it. If he wasn’t, I would have talked some sense into him. And if you ever get to wondering if he would have been fine with you and James becoming husbands, the answer is yes. His older brother, Thomas, lived with a man. They always said they were roommates but George knew it was more than that. He never told their parents and they never knew. He loved his brother so much he would have done anything to protect him.”

This unexpected bit of family history surprised Steve.

“I’ve never heard Bucky mention having an uncle before,” he commented.

“That’s because they lived in California,” Winnie replied. “He didn’t want to cause any trouble for Bucky and Becca’s grandparents.”

“So Bucky never met his uncle?”

“He did when he and Becca were children. Bucky doesn’t have strong memories of him nor did he know that his uncle was in love with a man.”

“Is Bucky’s uncle still alive?”

“No, he passed away several years ago. A heart attack. Geoffrey, Thomas’ husband, said Thomas wanted to be buried back here where George and their parents are buried. Geoffrey wanted to be buried next Thomas when his time came.

“A year later, he died in his sleep. I think he died of a broken heart. They’re buried side-by-side at the cemetary on the outskirts of town. I should take you and Bucky there one day just to say hello and pay your respects.”

“I’d like that very much, Winnie.”

“I’m sorry for bringing this somber note to the party,” she said. “I just wanted you to know that George would have been thrilled to see this if he was alive today.”

Steve hugged her again. “Please don’t apologize. It was something you needed to share with me. I’m really happy you told me about him.”

“You’re such a good person. I can’t wait for you to officially become part of the family.”

Steve thought his heart was about to burst with love. Before he could say anything, he noticed Wanda and Helen approaching, smiles gracing their faces. 

“Hi, Steve,” Helen spoke. “We’re just checking to see how everything is going for you and Bucky. ”

“It’s going great, thank you. Let me introduce you to Winnifred Barnes. She is Bucky’s mother.”

“And don’t forget Becca,” Bucky chimed in, smiling with his hand on his sister’s back. “This is my sister. They flew in a couple of days ago to be here.”

All four women shook hands and eagerly chatted away for five minutes.

“The hors d’oeuvres will start making their way around soon, ladies,” Wanda commented. “Would you like something to drink? There is white and red wine or if you’re not in the mood for alcohol, there is also sparkling water.”

“I could go for some white wine,” Becca replied. “Lead the way. Bucky, come with us. You’re going to give us commentary on all the pieces in the show.”

“Uh, okay,” he replied. “I’m not sure what kind of insight you want but I’ll give it a shot. Steve, did you want another glass of white wine?”

“No, I’m good right now.”

Steve watched Bucky, Becca and their mother each take a glass of wine and slowly made their way around the gallery. He watched fondly as Bucky answered their questions with each art piece they paused in front of. He noticed Bucky’s face turn a little red when they stop in front of one of the drawings Steve did of Bucky posing naked. 

Actually, all of his art pieces involved a naked Bucky. Some of the drawings had his face in detail. In others, the details were vague or faceless. 

“Now, that is a sharp-dressed man.”

Steve turned in the direction of the commenter. He smiled. “You’re not so shabby yourself, Sam. Nat, you look stunning as usual.”

For the occasion, Sam and Nat were a color-coordinated couple. It was something Steve knew they indulged in from time to time. They were tasteful in their approach but were never tacky about it. 

Sam wore a burgundy blazer jacket with a light grey dress shirt. Black tuxedo pants and black leather dress shoes completed the look.

For her part, Nat wore a knee-length black and burgundy floral print dress with an empire waist and black tights to accommodate for her growing belly. To finish the outfit, she wore low-heel ankle boots, a short black leather jacket, and a small messenger bag slung across her shoulder. 

“I feel naked without my camera bag, to be perfectly honest,” she said.

“Are you regretting the decision to cut back on work?” Steve asked.

“No, I’m not regretting it at all. The doctor said either I cut down my workload or risk being bed-ridden for the rest of the pregnancy. I’d prefer not to be stuck in bed.” Nat quickly surveyed the room. “I like seeing all these bodies here for you and Bucky. Where is he, by the way?”

“He’s somewhere with Becca and Winnie. I think they’re asking him uncomfortable questions about being the model for all my artwork.”

Sam chuckled and Nat snickered as they scanned the room again for the Barnes family. It didn’t take long for them to spot the family standing in front of another of Steve’s works. Becca suddenly burst out laughing, causing several heads to turn in their direction.

“He’s looking a little awkward,” Nat observed. “I’m going to go save him from whatever seemingly innocent questions they might be asking him.”

Steve and Sam watched Nat easily slide into the conversation. Becca and Winnie were thrilled to see her and were gushing over her dress. Nat leaned in to say something to Bucky which led him to immediately excuse himself and walk back to Steve and Sam.

“Hey, Sam,” he said. “I am so thankful to Nat for getting me out of the Barnes family inquisition.”

The remark brought out a round of chuckles from the two men.

“What kind of questions were they asking?” Steve asked.

“Well, they were teasing me. I know that. They just wanted to see if I could answer them with a straight-face.”

Steve raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I noticed you looked a little uncomfortable. Could you give me an example of one of their questions?”

Bucky’s jaw twitched. Steve knew he was trying hard not to blush.

“Mom wanted to know what I was thinking when you were drawing me in that pose.”

The drawing Bucky was referring to was the one where Bucky was lying on the foam mattress. But Steve had embellished it by turning the mattress into a bed. 

“Did she think you were lying in my bed?”

Bucky’s cheeks turned dark pink. Steve heard Sam quietly snickering to himself. 

“How did you answer the question, Buck?” Steve inquired with a smile.

“I told her I was thinking about unicorns which is why you heard Becca laughing so loud. “

Sam snorted at Bucky’s response.

“Is that what you told her?” Steve grinned.

“Yes.”

“But, okay, you told her what you were actually thinking, right?”

“Fuck, I lied. I told her my mind was blank because I didn’t want to move and I wanted to be a good model for you.”

“That was very nice of you to tell her that. And kinda sweet too.”

Steve waited for Bucky to reveal what he was really thinking.

“Seriously? You really want to know what I was thinking?” Bucky asked.

“Sure, why not?” Steve replied. “Do you want Sam to hear it or not?”

Sam laughed. “You know what? I’m gonna head over to my wife and chat with the Barnes ladies. I’ll save you the embarrassment, Bucky.”

Watching Sam join Nat, Steve looked back at Bucky. “So, what were you thinking when I was drawing you in that pose?” he asked quietly.

Bucky paused. “I was thinking how perfect that moment was between us. Just you and me. Then I had a little fantasy play out in my head where you suddenly stopped drawing. You started walking over to me, stripping off your clothes, and then we fucked.”

Steve gave his eyebrows a slight raise as he sipped his glass of white wine. “I don’t recall you looking aroused.”

“I may have been on the verge of dozing off when that thought popped into my head,” Bucky confessed before taking a quick sip from his glass of white wine.

Steve laughed. “You’ll have to tell me about some more of your fantasies later.”

“Only if you tell me yours, too. It’s a two-way street, Steve.”

“Don’t worry, I will, Buck.”

Bucky looked around to see more guests flowing into the gallery. “Who are these people? Do they all know you?”

“Some of them I know but most of them are from the gallery’s list of clients and people who might be interested in our pieces. Some of them are from Sam’s contacts. Some of them are other artists he represents. 

“As a group, the artists have made a point to attend each other’s openings and events as a show of support for one another. Sam loves that we do that; fostering community and friendship. And it’s also really good to meet some of the other artists on his roster and talk shop.”

“Did you do any of that after you stepped away from here?”

“I hate to admit that I didn’t. But I always called or sent a text message to the person who was having a show or an event. There was no judgment about me stepping back.”

“So, this will be the first time that you’ve seen them since you left?”

“Yeah, they all texted me to say they were going to show up and tell me how good it’ll be to have me back on the scene again. And they’re all excited about meeting you and seeing your images.”

“They are? Do they know about us?”

“They do,” Steve smiled fondly. “And they’re very happy that I met someone outside of this life, although you’re in it now , I guess.”

Bucky smiled and nodded, acknowledging the truth of Steve’s words. “As long as we’re together, I think we’ll be fine. And, if they’re here, I should meet them. Be friendly and network, I guess.”

“Yeah, I would love it if you did. Come on, let me introduce you to some of them.”


	15. I get to love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky decide to say 'I do' sooner rather than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. Goodness. This is the final chapter. It's the end of the line for this story but not for the boys. I hope you found their journey interesting and filled with love.
> 
> Anyway, Middi, Star-Princess31, and I would like to thank everyone who has been following this story. Thank you for your enthusiasm and comments. We really appreciate the love and support.
> 
> This is it for us and this story goes into the Not Another Stucky Big Bang 2020 collection. Please check out the collection for more tales of Steve and Bucky by other fab fanfic writers.
> 
> I also want to give one final shoutout to the NASBB mods for all the work they did to keep everything going smoothly. Could not have asked for a better set of mods to work with. Middi and I thank you guys from the bottom of our hearts <3<3<3
> 
> Enjoy the final chapter! Thank you again :)

Still drunk with sleep, Bucky slowly opened his eyes. He smiled at himself as he gazed over at Steve’s sleeping profile, backlit by the October morning sun. He looked so peaceful and handsome despite the bad case of bedhead he was sporting. He reached for the hotel room nightstand behind him, grabbing for his cell phone to snap a photo of Steve in this moment of sun-kissed quiet. Bucky managed to take a half-dozen shots before Steve stirred, groaning and stretching his arms like a cat.

Bucky placed his phone back on the nightstand just as Steve reached out and pulled Bucky in for a kiss.

“Good morning,” Steve grinned.

“Good morning. You need to brush your teeth,” Bucky replied, wrinkling his nose.

“You never complained before.”

“Well, you never ate most of the garlic hummus at the opening last night and neglected to brush your teeth before falling asleep. That hummus had a lot of garlic in it. It was super tasty but it’s not so tasty the morning after.”

“So, we’re not going to make out right now?”

“Nope, maybe after you brush your teeth. I’ll brush mine too. But we have to pack and get ready to head to LaGuardia. So, no nookie.”

Steve pouted which made Bucky chuckle. “What time is our flight back to Indianapolis?” 

“Two o’clock. We’ll eat something at the airport after Sam and Nat drop us off.”

Steve suddenly laughed. “I can’t believe Sam told us last night that he was thinking about getting a minivan when the baby arrives. I honestly can’t imagine him driving around in one.”

“Yeah, too bad Nat killed that idea,” Bucky laughed. “She’s not giving up her SUV for a minivan.”

Steve caressed Bucky’s left cheek, looking at him fondly. “You know what? It felt really good to introduce you to everyone as my fiancé.”

Warmth radiated within Bucky’s chest. He turned his head slightly to plant a soft kiss in the palm of his hand. “It felt pretty awesome being called your fiancé. And it was pretty nice to have some of the guests congratulate us. Do you think some of them will wonder how a nobody like me managed to snag you and a pretty huge gallery show debut?”

“You’re not nobody. You inspired me to create again. How can anyone second guess that? And to be honest, we were eyeing each other right from the start.”

“Yeah, we were.”

“And your work speaks for itself. They were engaged by the images and they wanted to talk to you about them. And if I do remember correctly, there were a couple of people who seemed interested in having you work for them.”

Bucky remembered them clearly. One potential client wanted Bucky to photograph him and his husband in a series of images in their sex dungeon. It was to mark their upcoming twentieth anniversary in December. The images would become part of their private collection. 

Bucky advised the gentleman to speak with Sam to set up a contract for both parties to sign and then determine a date and time for the session. 

The sex dungeon reference had Steve arching an eyebrow with interest. Steve had blurted out that he wouldn’t mind seeing what a dungeon looked like. The potential client was pleased that Steve showed genuine interest in their lifestyle. He appreciated his curiosity which made Bucky wonder if Steve was thinking of adding more variety into their sex life which was more than satisfying at the moment.

The gentleman even went as far as saying that if Bucky ever had plans to publish a photo book years down the road, he and his husband would be honored to have an image or two of themselves in the book. 

Bucky had thanked him for believing he should publish a photo book but the thought of it had him feeling extremely modest. 

After the gentleman left, Steve informed Bucky the concept of a photo book was definitely something to consider for the future. 

The second potential client had an idea that was just as interesting as the anniversary couple. 

The artistic director of a fledgling modern dance company based out of Brooklyn was contemplating having portraits of the dancers taken in preparation for marketing and promotional work. The director indicated that they didn’t have a ton of money to pay Bucky but he really loved the images and was struck by his ability to capture the vulnerability of his models. Remembering Becca once had dreams of pursuing a career as a modern contemporary dancer, Bucky liked the idea very much and was keen on the idea of helping out the the dance company. He was eager to take on the work and introduced the artistic director to Sam to iron out the details.

“Yeah, their ideas really appealed to me and it’s going to be fun working with them,” said Bucky.

He watched Steve ponder for a moment. 

“I think we should consider finding a place here since your new clients are based here,” Steve suggested.

Bucky’s eyes lit up. “Are you serious? A second home?”

“Well, we could rent a brownstone to start and consider owning somewhere down the road. It would depend on how much work you and I will get from last night and how much of it is based here.”

“Maybe we could find something in your old neighborhood? If that’s something that would appeal to you.”

“Anywhere in Brooklyn would be fine with me, Buck. Was there an area that you liked?”

“Bed-Stuy or Park Slope would be cool as long as we can afford it. Williamsburg is nice, too.”

“Park Slope is where Nat and Sam are. We could look there first. Would be nice to be close to the godchild after Nat gives birth. You know we’ll be called on to babysit whenever we’re here.”

“I don’t mind at all. It’s all an adventure anyway. We could teach the kid a few things.”

“Like what? Swearing?” Steve grinned. “The kid will learn all that from Sam. The kid will also learn how to be subtly disdainful from Nat.”

“The kid is set for life with skills like that,” Bucky mused.

“The best from both parents wrapped into one little human being.”

“The best kind of terror unleashed into the world.”

• • • • •

Steve’s heart swelled with love as he indulged in the simple act of watching Bucky climb out of bed, pull on his boxer briefs, and gather his clothes to pack into his suitcase. This was what he was going to do for the rest of his life; wake up everyday beside the person he loved with his entire being. Someone to experience adventures with; someone to share quiet evenings with; someone who fit into his life as easily as he fit into theirs.

“Let’s get married tomorrow.”

Bucky stopped packing the suitcase. “What do you mean let’s get married tomorrow?”

“I don’t want to wait months to say ‘I do.’ I want to be your husband now. We’ll get the marriage license tomorrow morning, find a magistrate to officiate the ceremony, file the papers and we’ll be husbands by tomorrow night.”

Bucky chuckled. “This sounds awfully romantic.”

“Are you saying you want a beautiful wedding?”

“We can have a beautiful wedding anytime. What I’m saying is yes, let’s get married tomorrow, if we can pull it off. Mom and Becca can be our witnesses. Besides, if they’re not present for the ceremony, they won’t consider it legit until they witness it with their own eyes. We should probably let Sam and Nat know otherwise they’ll be pissed at us.”

“Maybe we could talk someone into recording it onto one of our phones and we’ll send them the video after.”

“Unless they want to see it live.”

Steve thought for a second. “Yeah, you’re right. They’ll want to see it live.”

“Wait, I can set up a small tripod and record it on the digital camera. Better quality video.

“Okay, we can work with that.” Steve rolled out of bed, walked over to Bucky to kiss him. Bucky quickly covered Steve’s mouth with his hand.

“Nope. Brush your teeth first.”

Steve pouted but smiled. “Brush your teeth too and we can take a shower together before we finish packing.”

Bucky grinned victoriously. “Sounds good to me.”

• • • • •

Stepping out of the hotel elevator, Steve and Bucky spotted Becca and Winnie in the lobby with their luggage, waiting for them. Steve made a detour to the front desk to check out of their room.

Bucky made his way over to his mother and sister. He bent down to kiss his mother on the cheek.

“Did you enjoy last night, mom?”

“I did. The hors d'oeuvres were delicious, and the gallery owners were wonderful hosts. Sam and Nat were so much fun to talk to. More fun than you when I asked you about some of the drawings Steve made of you.”

“Mom, you asked me those questions specifically to rattle my cage.”

“I would not be your mother if I didn’t try to embarrass you at least once on your big night, just so I can keep you on your toes,” Winnie laughed. “But seriously, your photos and Steve’s art are so perfect together.”

“Yeah, visually, you complement each other,” Becca added. “Are you two planning to do more shows or projects together?”

“We don’t know yet. We haven’t talked about it. I think it’s something Steve would love to continue doing. I’d like to keep creating with him.”

“Keep creating what with you?” Steve asked as he walked up and wrapped an arm around Bucky’s waist.

“I was wondering if you and Bucky were planning to do more shows together,” Becca answered. “Your visual sensibilities complement each other very well. I was thinking it would be awesome to see you two working together on another art exhibit.”

“I would love to work on something with Bucky right off the hop instead of having him just model for me,” Steve said. “Bringing him into the show was an afterthought, and it was a way for me to bring Bucky into the community and feel his way around it.”

“Is it something you will start thinking about when we all get back home?” Becca asked.

“There’s something we need to deal with first before we can start entertaining the ideal of another exhibit.”

“Would that something have to do with a wedding, perhaps?” Becca grinned.

“Perhaps,” Steve replied, giving Bucky a wink.

At that moment, Nat walked into the lobby. “Good afternoon. Your chariot awaits. Got everything with you?”

After everyone replied ‘yes’, they followed Nat out of the hotel lobby to where Sam was standing at the back of the SUV waiting to help everyone pack their luggage into the vehicle. 

Conversation between the women began in earnest; the main discussion was all things that had to do with babies. Winnie was eager to dole out the answers to any questions Nat had about pregnancy and giving birth.

A few chuckles and laughs were shared whenever Winnie used Bucky or Becca as her examples of fussy babies and babies who got into everything once they figured out how to crawl and turned into little speedsters. 

• • • • •

“Oh, do I have a story to tell about these two darling angels of mine,” Winnie announced. 

Steve watched Bucky and Becca give each other questioning looks, wondering what story their mother could possibly want to share with everyone in the vehicle.

“Let me start by saying Becca was six and Bucky was three when this happened,” Winnie began. “I was in the kitchen preparing lunch for them. George was working so he wasn’t home at the time. I had Becca in the living room watching over her brother. She was doing a wonderful job of playing with him and teaching him the alphabet. She was quite eager to teach him what she knew so I didn’t think anything unusual was going to happen.

“So, I was cutting up vegetables when I heard Becca laughing out loud. And she kept laughing. She sounded like she was having so much fun that I had to take a look to see what she and Bucky were up to. I quietly walked down the hall and Becca was still laughing her head off. It was such a delightful sound. I heard her teaching the alphabet to Bucky. So, I peeked around the corner just to watch.

“Honestly, if anyone had told me Becca was a cheeky little devil for doing what she did, I wouldn’t have believed them unless I saw it with my own eyes. But I did see it with my own eyes.”

“Mom, what was I doing?” Becca asked, sounding slightly concerned.

“You, my dear child, were teaching your brother the alphabet backwards.”

“What do you mean she was teaching me the alphabet backwards?” Bucky asked. 

“The letter ‘z’ was ‘a’, ‘y’ was ‘b’, ‘x’ was ‘c’ and so forth,” Winnie replied. “That’s what your sister was teaching you.”

Nat was the first to snort-laugh at Becca’s pedagogical teaching style. Sam soon followed with his chuckles and Steve couldn’t stop smiling at the image of three-year-old Bucky wanting to learn the alphabet even though he was being led horribly astray by his sister.

“Well, I had to put a stop to it,” Winnie continued. “Thankfully, she stopped and I talked her into teaching Bucky the alphabet the correct way at the kitchen table so I could keep an eye on her.

“Then a month later, Bucky somehow got his hands on a can of Spaghetti-O’s and threw it at Becca’s head when she wasn’t looking. Fortunately, it missed her head by a couple of inches. George was actually present for that one. He looked at me and I told him it was probably payback for the alphabet lesson.”

Bucky and Becca exchanged looks and shrugged their shoulders.

“Well, she did try to incorrectly teach the alphabet to me,” Bucky remarked.

“Yeah, I deserved that,” Becca agreed. “But it was a silly yet brilliant thing to do to the little goblin.”

“Rogers,” Nat warned with a smile. “If you or Bucky try to teach my child the alphabet backwards, I am going to kick your sorry asses and all babysitting privileges will be revoked.”

“You have my word that I will not do it out of fear of losing an appendage,” Steve confirmed.

As the laughter settled, Steve cleared his throat. “Bucky and I have something to share with you.”

“You didn’t go off and get married, did you?” Becca teased.

“Not quite,” Steve replied. 

She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean not quite?” she asked.

“We filled out the online form to get the marriage license started and we’re planning to have a Justice of the Peace drive out from Indianapolis to our place and marry us on the veranda,” Bucky clarified.

The only sound in the car was the music coming out of the speakers. Nat and Sam looked at each other while Becca and Winnie stared at Steve and Bucky. The silence lasted almost a minute before Sam became the first to speak up.

“Wow, you guys are full of surprises,” he commented. “You couldn’t have told us sooner?”

Steve could tell from the tone of Sam’s voice that he wasn’t mad. Sam was used to Steve making decisions without warning him. It was one of the things that characterized their friendship. Sam always had to hit the ground running where his best friend was concerned. And somehow, it never bothered him much that he was playing catch-up to get on the same page as Steve. Nat was similar to Steve in that way, too. Sam was unflappable with her because he had so much practice with Steve. It was one of the qualities she loved so much about Sam.

“We decided after we woke up this morning,” Steve explained, shrugging his shoulders.

“Good to see your impulsive streak is still intact, Rogers,” Nat grinned, clearly unfazed by the sudden impending nuptials. “If Bucky was a woman, I’d ask you if you were getting married so quickly because you knocked him up. But he’s not so I won’t hazard a guess as to why you two are getting married tomorrow without us.”

Steve shrugged his shoulders again. “Honestly, I just want to be his husband. I want to be able to call him my husband. I don’t want to spend months planning a wedding. I just want to say ‘I do’ to Bucky.”

Bucky leaned in to kiss his cheek. Steve looked into his eyes, smiling adoringly. 

“I agree with Steve,” Bucky added. “I just want to be his hubby. We could have a wedding reception or party later; maybe after Nat has the baby?”

“Oh, I would appreciate that,” Nat smiled. “Baby’s first trip will be to Indiana, and I will get to drink a little wine too. Could you do a live feed of the nuptials? I think it would be nice to have an audience.”

“That’s what we’re planning on doing,” Steve replied. “We knew you and Sam would want to see it. We’ll figure something out. We’ll call you before we start.”

Nat smiled beatifically at the answer.

“Mom, Becca,” Bucky started. “We’d like you to be our witnesses when we get married. You don’t have to get dressed up for it.”

“Are you insane?” Becca asked. “Of course, we’re gonna get dressed up for it. Mom and I will put on clothes that don’t smell like we’ve been working with food all day.”

“Are you disappointed you won’t get to wear a fancy dress for the wedding?” Bucky asked with a touch of cheekiness in his voice.

“No, not really. You just saved me from buying something I was most likely going to wear only once.”

Steve noticed Winnie hadn’t said anything yet. “Winnie, you can come, right? Or are you disappointed?”

“Yes, I have no intention of missing seeing my baby boy say ‘I do.’ And no, I’m not disappointed. You do what makes you happy. I can’t begrudge you two for wanting to be married sooner rather than later. I was just thinking about George. We eloped, as a matter of fact. Your grandparents were mad as hell at us.”

“Mom, the wedding picture of you and Dad — you looked so pretty and fancy,” Becca commented. “Are you saying the photo wasn’t taken on your wedding day?”

“No, that was taken on our first anniversary,” Winnie replied. “Your grandmother — my mother — wouldn’t stop making us feel guilty for running off to Vegas and saying our ‘I do’s in front of an Elvis impersonator.”

Everyone laughed.

“So, to make peace we agreed to renew our vows on our first anniversary,” Winnie sighed.

Steve noticed Bucky’s initial expression of surprise by the revelation. He watched it slowly morph into an appreciative grin. Bucky then shook his head and laughed. He turned to look at Steve. “My parents were a couple of badasses,” he whispered into Steve’s ear. “This is fucking hilarious.”

“It is. Your mom is amazing. It kinda makes me think what we’re going to do tomorrow, looks pretty pedestrian,” Steve said. “No eloping. No Vegas. No Elvis impersonator to officiate the wedding… We’re sadly low-key.”

“I wouldn’t say low-key,” Bucky countered. “I think what we’re doing is perfect for us.”

Steve hummed in agreement as he leaned in to kiss Bucky.

“Save that for later, Rogers,” Nat called out.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked as Bucky planted his lips on his neck.

“I’m not planning to have the seats cleaned so you two better not make a mess back there.”

“Ewww,” Becca interjected. “I don’t want to know. Mom, don’t turn around.”

Winnie laughed. “That’s nothing. You have no idea what your father and I were up to when we were dating. This reminds me of the time your father and I —”

“Mom. No,” Becca pleaded, not wanting to know anything about her parents’ romantic escapades.

“Aw, come on Becs, you don’t want to hear what mom and dad were up to before they had us?” Bucky teased.

‘No’ was the emphatic reply.

While Bucky continued to tease his sister, Steve looked out the window to see the airport in the distance. In roughly twenty-four hours, he and Bucky were going to be married and he couldn’t be happier.

• • • • •

Monday morning was a whirlwind for Steve and Bucky. After completing the paperwork, they obtained their marriage license from Shelbyville’s county courthouse. As they waited to sign the marriage license, Steve made a phone call to the Justice of the Peace to confirm the time she would be arriving at their place to conduct the ceremony. 

With the two most important details handled, they made a quick trip to a boutique grocery/liquor store to pick up a bottle of champagne, cheese, crackers, fruit, and cured meat for the small group to snack on after the ceremony was over.

It was an hour before the ceremony was scheduled to start and thirty minutes before Becca, Winnie, and the Justice of the Peace were expected to arrive. 

With the food platter sitting on the kitchen counter and the champagne chilling in the fridge, the two men put on their best suits for the ceremony. 

Steve had a handful of suits to choose from. He opted for the navy blue suit, paired with a white shirt that had a hint of blue and a burgundy silk tie. His footwear of choice was a pair of oxblood colored combat boots. 

Bucky had spotted the boots in New York and thought they would look great on Steve. Although he loved the color, Steve wasn’t sure if they suited him. After a minute of cajoling, Steve relented; they walked into the store to try them on. Bucky loved them and Steve had to admit they looked great. Much to his surprise, Bucky paid for the boots. 

“Consider it a small gift for everything you’ve done for me,” Bucky had said. 

In his collection of jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, a handful of button downs, and a few henleys, Bucky only had a suit jacket and the charcoal grey suit he wore for the opening. For the wedding ceremony, he chose the charcoal grey suit, including the vest he didn’t wear at the opening. He paired it with a crisp white Oxford shirt with the top buttons undone and grey Chuck Taylor high top sneakers.

Their wedding rings, made of black and silver brushed titanium, each inset with a trio of small diamonds, would replace their engagement rings. Those rings would now hang from a chain around their necks. The wedding rings had been sitting in Steve’s sock drawer until the special day arrived. Now, they had each other’s ring tucked safely away in their inside jacket pockets.

After tidying up the kitchen and setting out five champagne glasses on the kitchen table, Steve walked out onto the veranda to find Bucky with his sleeves rolled up to his elbow, setting up his digital camera on a tripod to record the ceremony. Next to the camera was another slightly smaller tripod for the live feed for Sam and Nat to watch via his cell phone.

“Want some help?”

Bucky raised his head and looked around. “Yeah, how about standing where we will be for the ceremony so I can get the camera in the right spot to get everyone inside the frame.”

Steve stood at the spot where they would say ‘I do’ to each other and watched Bucky crease his forehead, deciding on the best location to record the wedding. “Do you think we’ll ever look at the video after today?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe when we’re old men. This isn’t exactly a high-production video we’re making here. It’s just to record a moment in our shared lives.”

Steve smiled at how Bucky was modest about what was going to be the biggest moment in their lives. “I think we should watch it every year on our anniversary.”

“Uh, okay, I better set the recording to the highest-quality. If we’re to get sappy every year, we might as well see every teardrop.”

Steve laughed. “I keep forgetting you don’t like being in front of the camera.” 

Bucky glanced up at him and shrugged. “Yeah, I’m more comfortable being behind the camera than in front of it.”

“Okay, I’m not going to tell you how beautiful you are because I know that to be true no matter how much you deny it. And I know that you do enjoy posing for me whenever I have a pencil in my hand.”

A small smile escaped Bucky’s lips and his cheeks pinkened. 

Bucky paused for a moment. “Drawing is an interpretation of something or someone as seen by the artist. I’m going to ignore the existence of photo manipulated images, but with photography, there’s no mistaking who that is in a photograph. I’m alright with an interpretation of me, whether it’s in the form of a drawing, painting or sculpture.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I get it. So why did you agree to model for me? I know you gave me a couple of really valid reasons but I honestly and truly would have been alright if you had said ‘no.’ ”

“I can tell you with absolute certainty that it wasn’t the money even though it was helpful and really appreciated. Like I said before, I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“But we had just started seeing each other; I think it was obvious we were going to spend more time together.”

“I couldn’t get enough of you,” Bucky blurted out. He looked down at his feet and bit his lower lip. “I was so smitten with you. After the first day we met, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You made such a big impression on me. And when I saw your drawing of me, I was blown away that you would consider putting me into your art. I had never never inspired anyone to do anything creative before. I had never been anybody’s muse and it was fucking flattering. So, when you asked me if I was interested in posing for you, I said yes without thinking. Yes, because I wanted to know you. Yes, because I felt safe doing something that was out of my comfort zone with you. And yes, because I was falling in love with you.”

Steve’s chest swelled at Bucky’s heartfelt words. He didn’t think it wasn’t possible to be any more in love with the man standing in front of him, but he was.

“Can I ask you a question?” Bucky asked.

“Sure,” Steve replied. “Ask me anything.”

“Why did you ask me to model for you? I remember what you told me; now, I want the real reason.”

It was Steve’s turn to blush and look down at his feet. Two breaths later, he looked up at Bucky.

“I asked you for the same reasons you said yes to me,” Steve replied. “You captivated me when I first saw you. I wanted to know you. I wanted to know more about you. Like you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you after we first met. Fuck, I jerked off thinking about you when I was taking a shower that night.

“You’re a stunning man, James Buchanan Barnes. Physically, you’re perfect in my eyes. Your face, your jaw, your cheekbones, the lines of your body and the way you move… I wanted to capture it all in my art. But more importantly, you have a beautiful heart. The very core of you reached out and touched me. I knew I belonged to you. I will always belong to you.”

Steve watched Bucky’s eyes shine with unshed tears. He watched as Bucky cleared his throat, and turned his focus back to his phone camera to adjust the angle for the live feed. 

“Nat and Sam are going to have a perfectly good view of the ceremony,” Bucky commented as he wiped something from his eyes and took his phone off the tripod.

“They’re not the only ones who are going to have a perfect view of the ceremony,” Steve remarked as he walked up to Bucky and pulled him in for a kiss. Both men groaned into the kiss, holding each other tightly.

The sound of a vehicle driving up the long gravel road leading to the house had the men parting to see who was arriving. It was the Justice of the Peace.

Picking up his blazer jacket from the railing where he had left it, Bucky put it on and walked down the steps with Steve to greet the woman.

The dark-haired woman stepped out of the car, smiling at the men.

“Good afternoon,” the magistrate said, reaching out to shake Steve’s hand. I’m Hope Van Dyne. I spoke with one of you this morning. You must be Mr. Rogers.”

“That would be me, Ms. Van Dyne,” Steve replied, shaking her hand. 

“We had a short but lovely conversation this morning when you called to re-confirm the time,” she remarked. “I read the email you sent yesterday and I have enough information about the two of you to blend into my remarks during the ceremony.” 

Steve gestured to Bucky. “This is Bucky Barnes — my soon-to-be husband.”

“You both can call me Hope,” she said as she and Bucky shook hands. “Would you like me to refer to you by your given name or do you want to be referred to as Bucky during the ceremony?”

“You can call me James during the ceremony,” Bucky replied. “And I think the second he calls me Bucky, you can call me by my nickname afterwards.” 

“Absolutely,” she smiled. “Now, where are we having the ceremony? Inside the house? This is a beautiful house, by the way, Mr. Rogers.”

“Thank you, and please call me Steve,” he replied. “We’re planning to have the ceremony up on the veranda and if you have some time to spare afterwards, we have a platter of cheese, fruit, crackers with an assortment of Italian deli meats and a bottle of champagne.”

“We also have a cake,” Bucky added. We were told it’s an Earl Grey mille crepe cake. It doesn’t look like a wedding cake but it’ll be the most elegant item on the kitchen table. You’re more than welcome to join us. It’s the least we can do after you agreed to do this on such short notice.”

“It’s no problem at all, gentlemen. And I would love to stay for a bite,” she said, following the men up the steps and onto the veranda. “It’s not everyday I get to officiate a wedding twenty-four hours after receiving the request. You’re fortunate most couples don’t seem interested in getting married on a Monday…This is a lovely view of the property. A perfect spot to say your vows. Am I to assume you have written your own vows for the ceremony?”

“Steve might have something written down and rehearsed in his head,” Bucky answered. “I might be more improvisational with mine.”

Hope smiled. “That’s alright. I’ve officiated weddings where the bride or groom completely forgot what they wanted to say and had to make it up on the spot. I think I’ve heard everything that one can blurt out in a moment of panic.”

“Well, I promise I will try to not have a moment of panic,” Bucky said. “Fingers crossed.”

Hope scanned the veranda. “Is there a specific spot you would like me to stand? I see you have two tripods set up.”

“Yes,” Bucky replied, moving to the spot where he wanted the magistrate to stand. “If you could stand here. I’ve marked the spot with masking tape. The video will have everyone in the frame.”

“Okay, good. And what is the second tripod for?” she asked.

“We have friends who want to watch it live,” Steve replied. “So we’re going to use one of our phones to do a live feed.”

“It’s wonderful to have an audience and share in your special moment,” Hope agreed. “I assume your witnesses will be arriving soon?”

“Yes, they will be,” Bucky replied. “My mother and sister will be our witnesses. There was no way they were going to miss out on this, especially when we’re not doing anything remotely traditional that involves walking down an aisle.”

“When they arrive, do you need to change into anything or freshen up before we start?” Steve asked.

“I’m good,” Hope replied. “If I could have a glass of water, that would be great.”

“Absolutely, let me go get it for you right now.”

As Steve walked into the house, Becca’s car cruised up the road. Bucky grinned.

“They’re here,” he said. “We should be able to start soon.”

Hope turned to see the approaching car. “Wonderful. Since everyone is here, I’ll just get set up, if that’s okay, Bucky.”

“Yes, of course,” he replied. “You do what you need to do and I will go bring my sister and mother over so you can all meet.”

He bounded off the veranda as Becca parked her car. Bucky opened the front passenger door for his mother. She climbed out and hugged him.

“Thanks for doing this, mom,” Bucky murmured into her shoulder. “You were probably expecting a more lavish ceremony for us.”

“Nonsense. Getting married at home is perfect for the two of you. It’s your big day, my darling boy,” she said. “Given the fact your father and I eloped, I shouldn’t be surprised the two of you would get married on the spur of the moment. Just remember the date you got married. I don’t want to hear from either one of you that you forgot your first anniversary.”

Winnie looked around the property. “Why haven’t we been invited here before?” she asked. “This is a beautiful piece of land.”

“I don’t know. You were always at the diner, mom,” Bucky shrugged. “But also we hadn’t thought to invite you and Becca over before?”

Winnie affectionately squeezed her son’s arm. “Well, we would be happy to come over more often now that Steve will officially be part of the family.” 

“It would be nice if mom didn’t cook all the time,” Becca added. “The odd break here and there would be welcomed.”

“You cook once in a while, don’t you?” Bucky asked, arching an eyebrow at his sister. 

“Yeah, I do,” she replied, arching her eyebrow back at him. “But she always ends up helping me and you know it’s next to impossible to chase her out of the kitchen once she settles in.”

“Children, you know me,” Winnie interjected. “I love to cook. It’s my passion.”

“We know mom,” Bucky replied, hugging his mom as they walked up the steps. “We know. Maybe we can have our first family dinner next Sunday.”

“That’s a lovely idea but I think you two should enjoy your honeymoon. We can have the family dinner after that.”

“Well, we haven’t made plans for a honeymoon yet,” Steve replied, returning with a glass of water for Hope. He leaned down to plant a kiss on each of the women’s cheeks. “We’re just gonna stay home and watch movies.” 

“That’s not what a newly-married couple does on their honeymoon,” Becca chirped. “We know you two are far from innocent.”

“Okay, you caught us in a lie,” Steve responded. “We’re not gonna watch movies. We’re gonna make movies.”

Winnie and Hope laughed. Bucky shook his head and chuckled. Becca cringed.

“Okay, that was way too much information, Steve,” she said, making a face.

“Actually, we were just confirming we’re far from innocent,” Steve replied, giving Bucky a wink. “Winnie, Becca, this is Hope Van Dyne. She will be officiating the ceremony. Hope, this is Winnie and Becca, Bucky’s mother and sister.”

The three women greeted each other and chatted while Bucky turned on the digital camera switching it to the video setting and Steve contacted Sam and Nat via video chat.

Nat answered on the second ring. Nat and Sam appeared. 

“You look very handsome, Rogers,” Nat quipped. “Where’s Bucky?”

Steve flipped the phone lens to show Bucky tweaking the camera’s recording settings.

“Bucky, say ‘hi’ to Nat and Sam,” said Steve.

Bucky looked up and waved at the phone. “Hey, guys. Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Bucky,” Sam smiled. “How soon are we getting the show on the road?”

“As soon as the magistrate is ready,” Steve replied. “Becca and Winnie are here. Do you want to say ‘hi’ to them?”

“Absolutely, where are they?” Sam asked

Steve pointed the phone lens at the two women. All four waved and greeted each other. He shifted the phone's lens over to Hope who waved at Sam and Nat.

“This is Hope Van Dyne,” Steve introduced. “She will be officiating the wedding.”

“Hello,” she said. “Nice to virtually meet you.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, too,” Nat agreed. “I wish we could shake hands and be there in-person but those two sprung the news on us yesterday.”

“Spontaneity does have the odd downside, unfortunately,” Hope agreed. “Clearly, these two gentlemen are very keen on starting their lives together.”

“Are you nervous, Steve?” Sam asked.

“Nope. I’m more than ready to do this.”

“What about Bucky?” Nat inquired, smiling. “Is he just as ready?”

“More than ready, Nat,” Bucky answered, walking up to Steve. He stood beside him and looked at the two friends and waved.

“You look dashing. No tie, Bucky?” she asked.

“Nope. Steve can be the classy one,” Bucky grinned. “I’m wearing Chuck Taylor high tops for the occasion.”

Smiling, Steve pointed the phone down at Bucky’s feet to show their friends. As he pointed the phone away from Bucky’s feet, Steve heard Nat blurt out something.

“Wait, point the phone over to your feet.”

“Why?” he asked.

“I want to see your shoes.”

Puzzled, he pointed the phone towards his feet. “Is there a problem?”

“No… I just want to look at them. I saw the color and I need a better look at them… are they combat boots?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I love them! That’s a great color.”

Steve brought the phone back up to look at Nat and Sam’s faces. “Thanks. Bucky bought them for me when we were in New York.”

“That boy knows what looks good on you, Steve,” Sam remarked. “If he suggests anything else that he thinks you should wear, wear it.”

“I’m not helpless,” Steve said, mildly defensive.

“You dressed like a frat boy for the longest time until you moved out to Indiana,” Sam stated. “Now, you dress like a woodsman or a farmer.”

“There’s nothing wrong with looking low-key,” Steve countered. “Besides, one can’t look like a frat boy forever. You end up looking like you refuse to grow up and become a responsible human being.”

“Marriage is one way to show you’re a responsible adult,” Nat noted. “It shows your willingness and desire to share your life with another person. Marriage will look great on you and Bucky. I’m willing to bet my net worth on it.”

Steve looked up to find Hope ready to proceed with the ceremony, and Becca and Winnie patiently waiting. He looked at Nat and Sam. “Okay, before you start placing your bets, let’s begin.”

• • • • •

With the phone already perched on the tripod and Sam and Nat watching with rapt attention, Steve watched Bucky press the record button on the camera and quickly walk back to take his place beside him. Becca and Winnie each flanked Bucky and Steve respectively. Hope smiled serenely at everyone.

“Friends and loved ones,” she started. “We have been invited here on this beautiful October afternoon to share a very important moment in the lives of Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes.

“Steve and James would like to acknowledge some people who are not here today to celebrate the marriage between these two men. Steve would like to acknowledge his parents, Joseph and Sarah. And James would like to acknowledge his father, George. It is unfortunate and sad that James never had the opportunity to know Steve’s parents, and Steve never got to do the same with George. However, Steve got the opportunity to meet James’ mother and sister, Winnie and Becca, who are here with us today.

“Steve and James met a year-and-a-half ago at Barnes & Cobbler, Winnie’s diner. And they were immediately smitten with each other.”

Bucky turned his head slightly to give Steve a curious look. Steve knew he hadn’t been specific with Bucky about what information he had provided to Hope for her opening remarks. He simply looked back at Bucky, offered a small shrug, and smiled. 

“It didn’t take long for them to fall in love,” she continued. “It also didn’t take long for Steve to realize James was the one person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. For James, the feeling was mutual. And since then, their love has grown.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. Steve felt his face quickly growing warm. Slowly but surely, Bucky gave him a mischievous grin. He shifted his gaze back at Hope.

“Aside from their love for each other, they also share a passion for art,” Hope added. “It was only natural that this passion would result in an artistic collaboration between Steve’s artwork, and Bucky’s photography. It’s probably safe to say there will be more collaborations in their future.

“Considering the fact that they weave seamlessly together in almost every aspect of their lives, it only makes sense that they would take this next step; sharing their lives together as husbands.”

Steve and Bucky turned to look at each other and beamed. 

“Are you ready?” Steve whispered.

“You know I am,” Bucky whispered back.

Hope smiled at the two men. 

“I don’t need to discuss the seriousness of the vow you two are about to make because of the way Steve spoke about James in an email to me. 

“He wrote about the time he was having a moment of doubt about the work he was creating. It was two weeks before the art show in New York. With some cajoling, James learned Steve was wondering if he really was ready to return to the art world. 

“Instead of giving him a pep talk and being his personal cheerleader, James asked Steve to draw him like he had numerous times before. It was while he was drawing his fiancé that Steve remembered why he loved creating art; why he was so passionate about it. James understood that about Steve. 

“Without saying a word, James reminded him what he already knew. It was that moment Steve didn’t want to wait months to become James’ husband. And here we are.

Bucky glanced at Steve and silently mouthed _Really? That’s when you decided?_

Steve bit his lower lip, smiled and nodded.

“Please turn to face each other and hold hands,” Hope instructed the men. “I understand the both of you have written your own vows.”

Both men nodded.

“Then you’re free to start,” she said with a smile.

Bucky squeezed Steve’s hands. “You go first,” he urged.

Caressing his thumbs over Bucky’s knuckles, Steve looked fondly into his eyes. He became acutely aware his heart was racing. Taking a deep breath, Steve spoke.

“Bucky, before everyone arrived, we discussed our reasons for working together artistically and came to the conclusion we were romantically motivated. I’d like to think that our discussion was the start of our vows. I did have something written and memorized to say to you. But I’m going to toss that out the window. Not because it wasn’t from my heart; it was very much from my heart. 

“But I’m going to continue where we left off half an hour ago and it is equally very much from the heart. Forgive me if I repeat myself.

Steve paused to look into Bucky’s shining eyes.

“Bucky, you are everything I ever wanted in a partner, husband, and lover. You inspire me. You make me want to be a better person and a better artist. 

“The moment I saw you I knew I wanted to grow old with you. I want to sit here with you on this veranda in our rocking chairs. I’ll be drawing another portrait of you for the millionth time and you’ll be taking another photograph of me because you keep telling me you can’t think of a better subject to focus on… Pardon the pun.”

Everybody, including Bucky, groaned and chuckled.

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I love you with all my heart, Bucky. I belong to you. I will always belong to you. I am so happy you’ve given me the honor of being your husband. I’ll make you so fucking proud of me. I will never stop loving you. I am yours forever.”

Steve watched a single tear trail down Bucky’s cheek. Reaching up, Steve wiped that tear from Bucky’s face, gently stroking his cheek. He watched Bucky bite his lower lip, contemplating what to say. Bucky inhaled deeply as Steve lowered his hand to hold his hand again. 

“Steve, you are the dream I could never accurately describe. When you’re a teenager, at least once, you try to imagine the man or woman of your dreams; the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. The friends I grew up with had no trouble describing what their ideal partner looked like. I was never able to do that succinctly. When it came to imagining a partner, I wasn’t focused on a person’s physical appearance. I was more interested in the intangibles; the things you couldn’t see with your eyes; the things you couldn’t measure like a scientist or a mathematician would. 

“I wanted to be with someone who was intelligent and could carry a conversation. I wanted someone who could challenge me, support me and love every fucking flaw I had because with that _one_ person, I knew I could easily do the same for them. 

“But I still couldn’t picture the physical manifestation of that idea; not until the day I met you. I’m glad Becca barked at me to go to your table to take your order.”

“Hey, I didn’t bark at you,” Becca protested. Her expression changed instantly to one of surprise. Thinning her lips, she glanced at everyone on the veranda and looked at her feet. “Sorry,” she muttered. 

Steve heard Winnie laughing quietly at her daughter. Bucky simply smiled, not caring his big sister had interrupted his speech. He winked at her to let her know she didn’t ruin the moment. Steve watched Bucky turn his attention back to him.

“I was so drawn to you. I didn’t know where things would go if we could get beyond me just taking your lunch order, but it didn’t take long to find out. 

“You’re generous and patient. You’re kind. You’re a hopeless romantic. You are my biggest supporter. You’re better than a cheerleader. You lift me up when I feel like shit. You’re the calm that settles me when my mind goes turbulent like a thunderstorm. 

“You have exceeded everything I want in a partner, husband, and lover. You said you were happy I was giving you the honor of being my husband. I’d like to say that I was just as happy and honored that you wanted me to be yours.

“And like you, I have every intention of making you so fucking proud of me. I will never stop loving you. I belong to you. I am yours forever.”

Seconds flew by as Steve and Bucky gazed at each other. Steve gently squeezed Bucky’s hands in anticipation of the next step.

“Gentlemen, do you have the rings?” Hope asked.

Steve and Bucky nodded releasing their hands to fish the rings out of their inside jacket pockets.

“A ring is simply a line with no beginning and no ending,” Hope started. “By standing here today for this special moment in their lives, Steve and Bucky are showing everyone their intention to be together till the end of the line. As it happens, it is a line that has no ending. The rings he and Bucky will exchange, symbolize their love and commitment in the next phase of their lives.”

Smiling, she looked at both men.

“Steve, you will go first,” she said. “Please place Bucky’s ring at the tip of his ring finger.”

Steve did as he was told.

“Do you, Steven Grant Rogers, take James Buchanan Barnes as your lawfully wedded husband?” Hope asked. “To love and cherish him in the best of times and through the worst of times; to love him unconditionally and to give him unwavering trust?”

“I do,” Steve replied and smiled as he slid the ring onto Bucky’s finger. 

“Bucky, it’s your turn now,” Hope said. “Please place Steve’s ring at the tip of his ring finger.”

“Do you, James Buchanan Barnes, take Steven Grant Rogers as your lawfully wedded husband? To love and cherish him in the best of times and through the worst of times; to love him unconditionally and to give him unwavering trust?”

“You bet I do,” Bucky grinned, smiling as he slid the ring onto Steve’s finger.

For a second, Steve felt intense love threatening to burst from his chest. His throat felt thick; unsure if he was capable of saying anything without completely turning into a pool of happy tears. He could see in Bucky’s eyes that he was heading in the same direction. To settle each other down, Steve slowly caressed the top of Bucky’s hands with his thumbs; the friction of warm skin grounding both of them.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Indiana, I now pronounce you married,” Hope declared. “You may kiss.”

Smiling, with tears in their eyes, Bucky and Steve closed the few inches between them, wrapped their arms around each other, and kissed.

Lost in the moment, they barely registered the sound of Becca cheering them, Winnie clapping her hands with joy, Nat blowing a kazoo, and Sam making a sound that resembled an empty pot being struck with a metal object.

Finally stopping to take a breath, Steve saw the affection in Bucky’s eyes. At that moment, nothing was more important.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi to you, too,” Bucky replied.

Hope cleared her throat to catch their attention before she spoke. 

“Everyone, I present to you Steven Grant Rogers-Barnes and James Buchanan Rogers-Barnes.”


End file.
